


How to Save a Life

by Emjen_Enla



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: (Ish) - Freeform, (in places), Alternate Universe - Canon Adjacent, Corporalki, F/M, Gen, Grishaverse Big Bang 2019, Healers, Heartrenders, Kaz Brekker is Grisha, Kaz Brekker's Fantastic Childhood, Language, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, please note the sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 41,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22028716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emjen_Enla/pseuds/Emjen_Enla
Summary: "Kaz took a deep breath and tried to prepare himself for what was to come. He’d done this before, in similarly hopeless situations, but it was always hard. Logically he knew that this was just another tool, another trick, but it always felt wrong." Or the one where Kaz is a Grisha Healer.
Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker & Jesper Fahey, Kaz Brekker & Jordie Rietveld, Kaz Brekker & Kuwei Yul-Bo, Kaz Brekker & Matthias Helvar, Kaz Brekker & Nina Zenik, Kaz Brekker & None, Kaz Brekker & Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik, onesided Jesper Fahey/Kuwei Yul-Bo
Comments: 35
Kudos: 303
Collections: Grishaverse Big Bang 2019





	1. Reveal

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the very first Grishaverse Big Bang on Tumblr. This is the first Big Bang I've ever participated in and it was so much fun. I've been playing with the idea of Kaz being Grisha for at least a year and I don't think I'd ever have managed to come up with something complete enough to share without this event. This is actually my longest completed fanfic to date (the fightingverse has a higher word count but I'm still working on it). 
> 
> This fic was beta read by @maddeningnoise, who was a lot of help in making it a polished finished project. @c0p10uscr4wd4dz (tumblr), @paintings-and-fairylights (tumblr), @zrsio22 (tumblr) and @_asteroideb612 (instagram) all made awesome artwork for this fic. Thank you all for taking part in this with me! I'll try to figure out how to link to tumblr to make it easier to find the artwork, but I have a poor track record with links in AO3, so you can also check my writing tumblr @emjenwrites.
> 
> The title is from the song "How to Save a Life" by the Fray, which is perhaps cringy, but totally works. Hey, its not like I'm ever going to win any prizes for being a great titler.
> 
> Note: I use direct quotes from the books in places where they are still relevant.

The Fjerdan troops stretched out before them like a final “fuck you” from the universe. The crew stared at them with horror, each trying to process their sudden change in fortune.

“Kaz?” Jesper asked. “This would be a really good time to say you saw this coming.”

Kaz hadn’t seen this coming. Until this moment he hadn’t realized just how much he’d trusted Matthias’s accounts of what Black Protocol was like. He should have considered the possibility that something like this would happen and planned for it. He cursed himself silently. He thought he’d outgrown this level of stupidity at age nine.

“ _Demjin_ ,” Matthias said, his whole body tense as he surveyed the troops. “What do we do?”

“Shut up and let me think,” Kaz growled. “How am I supposed to figure out how to save our skins if you all keep talking?”

Matthias pressed his lips together and Kaz looked out across the soldiers. There had to be a way out of this. Kaz still had Pekka Rollins’s empire to burn to the ground; he could not end here. There had to be one last trick that he wasn’t seeing, but Kaz’s bag of tricks was drained. He had no idea where to go from here.

Actually, that was not quite true. He did have one more trick up his sleeve. The one that no one currently living knew. However, it was something that he had never wanted anyone on this crew or to know. After so many years he recoiled at the mere idea of using it, but this was the reason he’d kept this secret; to use it as a last ditch escape attempt. The question was how to make it count.

He narrowed his eyes at the troops as he thought. The captain was counting down. He had seconds. There had to be a way to level the odds enough for this to actually work. They needed to get away from the majority of the soldiers first.

“Kaz,” Nina said tensely. “Anytime now.”

“You all need to trust me,” Kaz said.

“We followed you to the Ice Court, Kaz,” Jesper called. “Of course we trust you.”

“No, you really need to trust me for this,” Kaz said. “You need to do exactly as I say, when I say it.”

“I trust you,” Inej called from inside the tank. Kaz was embarrassed by the way his heart leaped.

“I trust you too,” Jesper said.

“And me,” called Wylan.

“Me too,” Nina said.

“Sure…” Kuwei Yul-Bo said, sounding like he was scared out of his mind and questioning all his life choices. Given the circumstances, Kaz couldn’t blame the kid; he was running for his life with a bunch of people he didn’t know.

Everyone looked at Matthias. The Fjerdan nodded. “Get us out of this, _Demjin_.”

“Good,” Kaz said. “We’re handing ourselves in.”

They all stared at him with identical looks of horror. “You just said you trusted me,” Kaz said. “So prove it. I am going to get us out of this.”

“Alright,” Jesper said after a moment. “Lead the way.”

~~~~

The soldiers stripped them of their weapons and handcuffed them before marching them towards the guard station where the dock met the city. Perfect. They’d cuffed Nina and Kuwei’s hands with special cuffs made specifically for Grisha, which covered their whole hands and immobilized their fingers. The rest of them got normal cuffs which simply bound their wrists, which was also perfect. Apparently they hadn’t realized that there was a Fabrikator in this crew yet.

They were brought to a backroom and set up on chairs. The room was lit by lantern light allowing Kaz to see the curtains drawn over windows on the other side of the room. The soldiers dumped their weapons and the contents of their pockets onto the room’s large table. There were knives and guns and what looked like Heleen Van Houden’s diamonds, which was a bit unexpected but not welcome. There was also a small bag of orange powder. _Jurda parem_. Kaz growled. Nina, Matthias and Kuwei should have just left it all to burn with the lab.

The door to the hall was closed and locked from the outside. Aside from the seven of them there were four others in the room. The captain, two soldiers and the _parem_ -addicted Corporalnik the Fjerdans had been planning to use against them. The Grisha was probably in his early twenties but he looked far older. He was trembling and swaying on his feet and eyeing the pouch of parem on the table with an expression that made Kaz a little sick to his stomach.

The captain was talking to the other soldiers in Fjerdan. Kaz didn’t speak Fjerdan, so he was left trying to judge what was being said by Nina, Matthias and Kuwei’s expressions. It was hard to tell how much of the tenseness of their expressions were from the conversation and how much was from the simple fact that they had just gotten themselves arrested for the second time in twenty-four hours.

“Kaz,” Nina said under her breath. “Anytime now.”

She was right. He needed to do something now before someone from the Ice Court showed up to drag them back. They were actually closer to the _Ferolind_ than they had been before. They just needed to escape.

Kaz took a deep breath and tried to prepare himself for what was to come. He’d done this before, in similarly hopeless situations, but it was always hard. Logically he knew that this was just another tool, another trick, but it always felt wrong.

He didn’t want to do this.

 _Grow a spine._ He told himself. _You do this kind of thing all the time. All this is is another weapon. These people won’t hesitate to kill you, so you should grant them the same favor._

He raised his hands off his lap, just enough to have some freedom of movement and took another deep breath. He focused on the Corporalnik first. The _parem_ -drugged Heartrender, who stood swaying next to his master. His rapid heartbeat was stumbling and tripping over itself, skipping beats in its struggle to keep up with the drug coursing through his veins. Kaz was close enough now that he could half-hear, half-feel it if he focused. It was maddening. Some part of him, a part he had tried to bury with Kaz Rietveld and never quite succeeded wanted to soothe, to make it better, but as always he was here to do more harm, not make things better.

“Kaz…” Inej said. 

Kaz pressed the fingers of his right hand together. It was an intentional gesture, but not, thankfully, one anyone else would recognize. At least not until they figured out what he was doing. He made a sharp gesture. 

The Heartrender dropped like a stone, dead. The captain started to turn, eyes widening with the beginnings of shock. Kaz gestured again and the captain fell dead too, clutching at his chest. 

The soldiers reached for their guns but Kaz was already up and moving. He slammed his shoulder into the closer soldier and dropped his blood pressure with a flick of his fingers. He collapsed unconscious. 

The last guard got his gun up with a snap. “Hands up, Grisha,” he said. 

Kaz smiled his best monster’s smile. This Fjerdan was a member of the regular military and it was obvious he had never been thoroughly trained on how to fight Grisha. A drüskelle would have gone for Kaz’s hands to restrain him. This soldier had not and he was going to pay for it. 

Kaz gestured again and the guard fell like a stone, also unconscious. He hadn’t exactly planned to spare the man’s life save for the fact that he didn’t like killing with his powers. Years and years of training himself to do just that should have been enough to desensitize himself to it, but somehow it was not. He tried not to think about the reasons why that was. 

He surveyed the bodies of the people who minutes before had been holding them captive then stepped over to the body of the captain. He found the keys and unlocked his own handcuffs, a maneuver that would have been awkward for someone who didn’t have as much experience with magic tricks as he did. Only once his hands were free did he turn to face the rest of his crew. 

They were all staring. Jesper and Wylan’s faces were wide with shock. Nina looked like she couldn’t decide if she was surprised or angry. Matthias was visibly horrified. Kuwei seemed like he wasn’t quite sure if this was supposed to be surprising. Kaz didn’t let himself look at Inej; he didn’t want to know what her response would be.

“Well?” he said to cover his own trepidation. He had a persona to maintain. “Are you all going to just sit there until someone else shows up to arrest us?”

“You-“ Jesper got out. “You’re— What—“

“Yes, there are currently four Grisha in this room,” Kaz snapped. “Now, come on, we need to get moving.”

Nina swallowed and collected herself enough to asked, “Heartrender or Healer?”

Kaz should have known that would be the first question she asked; Nina was used to meeting other Grisha in the regimented surroundings of the Second Army where everyone’s order was easily obvious from the colors of their keftas. It made sense that would be the first thing she wanted to know, even though it was the last question he wanted to answer. 

Still, Kaz had lied many times and this would be no exception. He looked Nina in the face and said, “Heartrender.” 

~~~~

After everyone was freed and had reclaimed their possessions, Kaz watched Nina pocket the bag of parem but didn’t comment. There was a possibility it was now the only sample in Fjerda and he didn’t want to give Brum the chance to reverse engineer the stuff. They jimmied one of the windows open and climbed out.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, so to speak.

Almost the instant Kaz dropped out of the window a figure in _drüskelle_ black rounded the corner. He saw them immediately and darted back around the corner shouting for his superiors before Kaz or Nina could take care of him. Kaz swore under his breath in terms so foul his father would have washed his mouth out with soap. He was briefly confused as to why he was thinking about that, but he always thought about his parents more when he used his powers. That was unfortunate because he couldn’t use his powers the way he did now without thinking about how disappointed they’d be.

“Run,” Inej said and Kaz looked at her for the first time since he’d used his powers. She was clutching a knife in each hand and her face was tense. The look she gave him was the one she always did when they were about to make an improbable escape. “We need to get to the _Ferolind_.”

“Let’s go,” Kaz ordered.

They took off in the direction of the ship. It was much closer than it had been before they’d handed themselves in, but there was no cover. They had no choice but to run and hope.

A _drüskelle_ rounded the side of the building and opened fire. Jesper waved his hands in an attempt to ward off the bullets, but there were far too many and he didn’t have that much training. Kaz ducked as the bullet whizzed past his ear.

Someone cried out. Kaz turned just in time to see Matthias collapse, clutching at his thigh. Jesper and Nina dragged him behind a stack of crates. The others crouched around them. They were still a good hundred yards from the _Ferolind_ and the _drüskelle_ were getting closer. They’d never be able to carry Matthias to the ship without getting shot.

Matthias pressed his hand to the wound. He was snarling a single word over and over under his breath. Kaz had a better grasp of curses in other languages than anything else, and he was pretty sure that was the Fjerdan word for “fuck.” Hearing Helvar swear would have been funny if they hadn’t all been about to die. Kaz risked popping up and took out one of the closest _drüskelle_. As he ducked back down behind the crates again he heard the _drüskelle_ yelling, presumably about there being another Heartrender.

When he looked back at the others he saw that Kuwei was moving his hands in circular patterns in the air. “I need a lighter,” he said, his eyes squeezed tight closed. “Please.”

For a second they all stared at him. “Why?” Wylan asked blankly.

“He’s Inferni,” Matthias got out. His face was slick with sweat. Kaz pushed away the instinct to help, to heal, that he’d been suppressing for half his life.

“Here,” Inej struck her knives together, creating a few small sparks. She would dull the blades, but these weren’t her usual knives and given the circumstances she probably wouldn’t have cared even if they were.

Normally a pair of knives would never have created enough sparks to start a fire, but with Kuwei raising the concentration of flammable gases in the air, Inej only had to strike the knives a couple times to get a flame going. Kuwei moved his hands, gathering more and more gases to feed the fire until the flames formed a ball about the size of his chest. Then his eyes opened and he stood up. Kuwei gritted his teeth and hurled the fireball at the _drüskelle_. It bowled into a man and a couple people behind him. The _drüskelle_ started shouting even more frantically.

Jesper pulled Kuwei back down before someone could shoot him. “Good one,” he said with a tense grin.

“They killed my father,” Kuwei said through his teeth.

“Plenty of revenge going around in this crew,” Kaz said. “You’ll fit right in.” Jesper gave him a weird look, and Kaz cringed internally, realizing he’d shared too much.

“We need to find a way to get to the ship before they shoot these crates out from behind us,” Wylan said.

Kaz tried to think, but they literally had their backs to the wall. Kaz and Nina could kill them, Kuwei could set them on fire, Jesper could redirect their bullets, but it would not be enough. Grisha were not infallible and against numbers, especially numbers which had been trained to know the weaknesses in their powers, they would not prevail. This might be the end of the road.

He took a look at his crew. Matthias was panting in pain. Nina was digging at something in her pocket. Kuwei was preparing to launch another fireball with sparked gleaned from Inej’s knives. Jesper was looking at Kaz like he knew exactly how much trouble they were in. Wylan was chewing on his lip, clearly worried as well. Kaz needed to save these people, but, per usual, he couldn’t. This was what it always came down to.

“Nina,” Matthias said, his voice sharp with fear not pain.

“Kaz might be out of tricks,” Nina said. “But I’m not.”

Something changed about Nina, though it was hard to say what. Corporalki generally had to touch another person to actually feel anything concrete about them, but that didn’t mean their sense of the physical states of other people wasn’t better than normal. Kaz turned towards Nina just in time to see her finish pouring the orange contents of the bag of parem into her mouth.

“Nina!” He dove at her and tried to knock the bag out of her hand even though the damage was already done. He landed on Matthias’s stomach and the bodies on the Reaper’s Barge seared through his mind. He threw himself backwards and when he could see the Fjerdan dock again tried to knock Nina unconscious with his powers. She pushed him away with what he could only describe as a mental slap to the brain. He gaped up at her. She was radiant in the drug’s power, her eyes sharp and sparkling. It was terrifying.

“You might want to start running,” she said.


	2. Before 1

When Kaz Rietveld had been about three or four, his father had gone out hunting, taking their trusty family dog, Buck, along. When they were miles from their farm, deep in the woods they had come across a mother bear protecting her cubs. She charged them in fierce desire to defend her young and Buck leapt between Mr. Rietveld and the charging beast.

Buck was a large and powerful dog, but he was no match for the bear. When Mr. Rietveld returned home, he carried the bloodied dog, weak and wounded in his arms.

Mrs. Rietveld shut their sons in the bedroom and together she and her husband tried to help the dog. Eventually they admitted there was no hope. The bear had torn a deep, ragged slash in Buck’s side and he had lost too much blood.

Mr. and Mrs. Rietveld went into the pantry to prepare a simple drink to ease the dog’s passing. When they returned to the main room, their younger son was kneeling over Buck. Mrs. Rietveld ran to the child, but when she pulled him away she saw in shock that the jagged slash had pulled together and scabbed over like it was weeks old. Buck was weak but able to lift his head and lick the boy’s hand. It was a miracle.

Of course, this realization also opened the door for many problems. Kerch wasn’t like Fjerda where Grisha were institutionally burned at the stake as witches, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any problems. In the big cities, especially Ketterdam, Grisha were seen as extremely profitable and often drafted into the service of gangs and merchants as protectors or soldiers. This was especially true of Coporalki who were much deadlier than even the biggest toughs and even more threatening. The problem was that such Grisha usually were indentured to their bosses and still faced the chance of being kidnapped and sold into even worse situations.

Things were no better for Grisha in the rural areas, in fact, they were probably worse. The powers that be didn’t really care about what happened to Grisha in their cities as long as it was profitable, and they cared even less about Grisha in the countryside. According to the theology of Ghezen, nothing was an abomination as long as you could make money off of it, but that didn’t mean that the inhabitants of a small village wouldn’t decide that a Grisha living in town was a witch and should be stoned to death. This happened quite frequently and the  _ stadwatch  _ tended to turn a blind eye.

Needless to say, Mr. and Mrs. Rietveld were not at all pleased at the idea of either of those things happening to their youngest son. That first night, after Kaz had been put to bed--his little arms wrapped tightly around Buck--they sat on the front stoop of their house to discuss their options. Several things were immediately obvious; firstly there was the fact that being Grisha was very dangerous for their son. Secondly there was the fact that Grisha suffered from health issues when they didn’t use their powers, so Kaz couldn’t simply not use his powers.

From their point of view there was only one thing that could be done; Kaz had to be sent to Ravka to train at the Little Palace. Perhaps they were a bit over optimistic about the state of life for Grisha in Ravka, but the fact remained that Ravka was the only country in the world where there was an actual institution dedicated to training Grisha. If Kaz was going to learn to use his powers, he’d have to go to Ravka.

That left the problem of coming up with the money to send Kaz to Ravka. The Rietvelds were rather poor and they didn’t have enough excess income to even consider taking a trip to Ketterdam, let alone sending a child to Ravka. Luckily, neither of them could imagine sending their three year old to another country. That meant they had time. That night sitting on the front stoop of their little farmhouse, Mr. and Mrs. Rietveld began to plan. They discussed ways to make more money and things that might be done to save money. They were both determined that their son would be trained.

If only their optimism hadn’t been so misplaced.


	3. After 1

The ship took off to sea as soon as they were on board. Kaz walked towards the prow to get away from the others. He felt off balance, like his skin was too tight. He had used his powers to incapacitate an enemy often, but he had only killed twice before tonight, and both times had left him with the same uncomfortable sensation. Death by Corporalnik was rather distinctive, and he needed to be careful unless he wanted rumors about Dirtyhands being Grisha to start circulating. He liked to pretend that was the only reason he didn’t kill with his powers; it was really too bad he didn’t actually believe himself.

Still, this time it had been easier than previously. He wasn’t going to be sick with self-loathing like he had been after his first kill, and if he was honest with himself, that was what really bothered him. Given enough time he probably would be able to get as used to killing with his powers as he was with a knife. When that happened he would have completely lost the farm boy who thought that killing with his powers would be the ultimate abomination. Logically he knew that was a good thing, but it was sometimes hard to remember that.

He tried not to think about his parents. They didn’t haunt him like Jordie did, though he’d never been able to figure out why--he hadn’t been able to help them either--but they always felt closer when he used his powers. Their son, Kaz Rietveld, had been a Healer, and Kaz had spent years making sure Kaz Brekker was anything but.

Most days, when he didn’t use his powers, when he only thought about them in the abstract, he didn’t have any problem thinking of himself as a Heartrender. It was only when he actually used his abilities that he had to face the fact that he wasn’t a Heartrender. It was like carrying on with his life and stumbling onto the unburied ghost of younger self and that younger self knew his parents would be horrified.

It was very odd. There was little to no practical difference between Heartrender and Healer power. A Heartrender could be trained to do anything a Healer could and vise versa. By that logic Kaz--who had barely let himself think about Healing since he’d hauled himself out of that harbor--was as much a Heartrender as Nina was. All his training was that of a Heartrender. All his knowledge of anatomy was the functional stuff needed to kill. If he waltzed into the Little Palace tomorrow and demonstrated his skills he’d be labeled as a Heartrender without a second thought. Then why was his traitorous subconscious still clinging to the idea that he was a Healer? It made no sense.

A group of footsteps sounded on the deck. His crew had decided to come to him. He held back a sigh. Explanations were in order. He hated giving explanations. He hated being seen.

“You know,” Jesper said coming up alongside him. He was using a forcibly casual tone of voice that showed how hard he was trying not to make things weird. Despite himself, Kaz was a little touched, “I always wondered what you’d look like without under-eye circles.”

Kaz had forgotten about the Grisha glow. He used his powers so infrequently and in such small doses that he never saw it. It was dangerous. The sort of unnatural health Grisha exuded stood out and he’d been doing everything he could to blend in. He was perfectly aware that using his powers as little as possible had very negative effects on his overall health, but he’d rather suffer that than slavery.

“I’m amazed you never took advantage of that” Nina said. “You do realize that Grisha who use their powers don’t have acne, don’t you, Kaz?”

She sounded distracted and her eyes were still glittering with the  _ parem _ . Still high as a kite. Kaz’s stomach twisted and he pushed aside the gut-deep instinct to help. There was nothing he could do against the drug, and even if there was he shouldn’t try it. Misidentifying his Order was the last shred of armor he had. He would seem infinitely more formidable as a Heartrender than as a Healer. Not to mention all the other reasons trying to Heal was always a mistake.

“I was aware of that, Nina dear,” he said. “I haven’t lived the last seventeen years with a blindfold on.”

“And you just chose to have bad skin and eye-bags?”

“No, I chose to wait for Jesper to slip up and tell me his secret,” Kaz was aware that trying to deflect things onto Jesper was a little juvenile, but he found that he didn’t really care.

“I don’t have a secret,” Jesper said. “Well, not anymore now that everyone knows about the Grisha thing,” he sounded as uncomfortable calling himself Grisha as Kaz had did. 

“You’ve been swearing up and down since I met you that you haven’t used your powers in years and look at you,” Kaz guestured and the rest of the crew looked. It was true. Jesper showed no signs of the exhaustion and sickness which plagued Grisha who didn’t use their powers. “So either you’ve been lying to me all this time--which, I might remind you, is a terrible idea because I always figure out in the end--or you’ve figured out some kind of solution.”

“Neither,” Jesper said. “Maybe it’s because I have no idea what I’m doing when I use my powers. Which, need I remind you, doesn’t seem to be an excuse you have.”

“Jesper’s right,” Matthias said. “I’ve never seen those hand gestures before, but you obviously have some training. Who taught you?”

Kaz knew Matthias wasn’t trying to sound like a _drüskelle_ interrogating his prisoner, but the Fjerdan managed it anyway. “No one,” he said waspishly, mostly because he knew the answer would annoy him.

“We all know that’s not true,” Inej said quietly, speaking for the first time in the conversation. Kaz’s shoulders tensed. He cursed how anxious her specifically knowing about this was making him. Her knowing shouldn’t be any different than the rest knowing, but somehow it was.

“I stalked Heartrenders, alright?” he admitted, internally cringing at how petulant he sounded; that was not in line with his image. “There’s actually a lot of them in Ketterdam and, like most people, they’ll talk about anything once you get enough alcohol into them. I remember basically everything I hear, so I prodded them into speaking about their powers, absorbed what was useful and worked the rest out for myself.”

“And how did they not start wondering why Kaz Brekker was so interested in Grisha?” Jesper asked.

“I did most of it when I was a lot younger and therefore less notorious,” Kaz admitted. “And besides; when has anyone ever known what I was stealing from them if I didn’t want them to?”

“If you figured all that out just by watching people, imagine what you could learn if you had an actual teacher,” Nina said. “When this is all over you and Jesper need to come to Ravka. You could get training at the Little Palace.”

Jesper looked distinctly uncomfortable and Kaz took a moment before he responded, “Is it true that in the Little Palace Heartrenders are taught to kill on dogs?”

Nina looked briefly taken aback, even through the haze of her parem high. “Why does that matter?”

“It doesn’t,” Kaz said. “It was just a rumor I heard and I could never tell if it was true or not.” 

In fact, it mattered a lot. When Kaz had heard first heard that, he’d thought of killing Buck instead of saving him and the thought had been so disturbing he’d fled into the alley and been sick. It was one of his greatest moments of weakness, up there with the humiliating night that had lead to him buying his first pair of gloves. He hated himself for it, but he’d never been able to force himself to try the same kind of practice on any of the myriad stray dogs that haunted the Barrel. The first time he’d killed with his powers had been on a human who was actively trying to kill him and he hadn’t known if it would work until he’d done it.

“Well then?” Nina prompted.

“I’m not going to Ravka, Nina,” Kaz snapped. “I don’t know what made you think I would.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jesper relax, like the fact that Kaz was refusing to go to Ravka made it possible for him to refuse too.

“Why not?” Nina asked, face wrinkled in confusion.

“I’m Kerch, Nina, dear,” Kaz said. “And I already fail spectacularly at patriotism. What makes you think I’d be willing to risk my life for your country when Ravka and Fjerda inevitably go to war?”

Nina’s mouth opened and closed. It was obvious that she didn’t know how to respond to that. Grisha came to Ravka from all over the world because it was at the very least the least horrible place to be Grisha. They were trained at the Little Palace, but in exchange they had to join the Second Army. A truly massive portion of those Grisha who had come to Ravka for a better life had been slaughtered in the civil war between Nikolai Lantsov, Alina Starkov and the Darkling. Kaz did not want anything to do with a repeat of that situation. He ran the risk of death everyday, but at least it was on his own terms.

“How about we discuss this later?” Jesper asked, looking like he just wanted this conversation to be over before Nina started to try to convince him to come to Ravka. “We just broke out of the ice Court. We completed our mission! Now all we have to do is go collect our money.”

“Hopefully Van Eck will give it to us without trouble,” Inej said, coming to Jesper’s rescue.

“If not we’ve got Wylan,” Matthias grumbled, then apparently realized how mercenary that had sounded. His eyes grew wide.

Wylan shifted uncomfortably on his feet, turning very red. He looked like he wanted to sink down into the deck.

“Something wrong, merchling?” Kaz asked.

“What?” Wylan looked at all of them. His fear was obvious. “Nothing’s wrong!”

“You’re going to have to do better than that, Wylan,” Kaz said. “Especially with Nina on parem standing right next to you. What have you been holding out on us?”

Wylan sunk in on himself like his foundations were collapsing. When he next spoke he seemed very small and very ashamed. “It’s about my father and, I guess, about me. You see, my father won’t see me as worth trading for our money.”


	4. Before 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Cancer, Character Death

Mr. and Mrs. Rietveld were not the sort of parents who would deliberately keep things from their children, and even if they’d wanted to they wouldn’t have been able to. Kaz was a smart child; he knew that what he’d done to save Buck was special. He also was the kind of little brother who told his big brother everything. While Mr. and Mrs. Rietveld were out on the porch discussing their options, Kaz was inside telling Jordie everything that had happened. When the worried parents came back inside they found both their sons waiting for them in eager anticipation.

Jordie wanted to hear exactly what had happened in their words, even though he’d already heard about it from Kaz. Mr. and Mrs. Rietveld finally broke down and told the boys that Kaz was a Healer.

“Does he have to be a Healer?” Jordie asked once his parents had said their piece. “Why couldn’t he be a Heartrender? That would be way cooler.” he turned to his brother. “You’d like to be a Heartrender, wouldn’t you, Kaz? You’d get to hunt down all the bad guys.”

Kaz’s small face twisted into a frown. He looked to the place where Buck lay sleeping by the hearth. “I don’t think so…” he said slowly.

“Really?” Jordie said. “You’re no fun.”

Mr. and Mrs. Rietveld thanked their lucky stars that they had one sensible son and made a mental note to teach Jordie that war was not fun. At least Kaz knew that. The last thing they would want was their Corporalnik son deciding to run off and become a killer.

~~~~

For a while it seemed like everything was going to be alright. On the surface it appeared that realizing the youngest member of their family was Grisha had changed nothing at all. The family lived much as they always had, doing the various chores and selling their wares at markets and to companies which came to the south to buy grain for the big cities. However, their lives were actually very different.

Kaz and Jordie were under very strict instructions to never mention Kaz’s abilities to anyone. There had been a Tidemaker in their village once before Mr. and Mrs. Rietveld had been married who had been killed by a mob who had decided they were the cause of a drought. The Tidemaker’s family had taken the matter to court in Lij, but the instigators of the mob had only been fined. Killing a Grisha was illegal, but not much more illegal than killing someone else’s cow would be. Grisha were a source of commerce to the authorities, not real people. If Kaz was to avoid the same grisly fate--especially since there were people in the village who still believed the old scare stories about Corporalki being able to control people’s minds--he needed to remain hidden.

Still they knew that teaching Kaz to hide his powers completely and to fear them would be counterproductive. Mr. and Mrs. Rietveld hoped that he would someday be able to got to Ravka and learn to use his powers. They encouraged him to practice healing on small wounds they and their animals received every day. Kaz tried diligently, sometimes with success, sometimes without--instinct only went so far.

The biggest thing that changed was that they were now saving money to send Kaz to Ravka. Mr. and Mrs. Rietveld weren’t sure exactly how much it would cost to get Kaz training. They weren’t sure if they were going to relocate their whole family to Ravka--their first thought was that that was a terrible idea, but what if it was the only way to see Kaz again? No matter what, they knew that they would need a lot of money and they saved every cent they could.

For six months, everything seemed to be going perfectly, but it was too good to last. One quiet night they were all sitting around the hearth. Kaz was curled up in his mother’s lap. He had been drifting off to sleep but suddenly he stiffened. Aware of her son’s sudden tenseness, Mrs. Rietveld shifted and looked down at her son. “What’s wrong, lamb? Did something happen?”

Kaz straightened up a little and pressed one little hand to her stomach off to one side. “What’s this?” he asked.

“My stomach,” Mrs. Rietveld said in a gentle voice. “What else would it be?”

“Not that,” Kaz said. When he paused, his lips were pressed together in a thin line, like he was fighting to maintain his composure. Such an expression might have been cute on a five-year-old if he wasn’t so obviously upset. “There’s something else.”

“What else?” Mrs. Rietveld asked.

“Something bad,” Kaz said and burst into tears. He couldn’t give anymore information about what he felt or what made him so sure it was bad.

~~~~

At first Mrs. and Mr. Rietveld decided there was nothing to worry about. They figured that Kaz must have just dozed off when they weren’t looking and had a nightmare. There was nothing to be concerned about; after all, he was a child even if he was Grisha. He would probably forget about it in the morning.

However, as the months dragged by, Kaz did not forget. In fact, he only became more desperate. He still couldn’t explain what it was, but he needed them to believe him. After the night when he became so worked up he could barely breathe, Mrs. and Mr. Rietveld decided they should see a doctor if only to set their son’s mind at ease.

Things did not go according to plan. They saw the village’s doctor, an aging man who had lost most of his teeth and charged far too much. They expected him to confirm that nothing was wrong, but he was concerned as well and recommended they see a doctor with a bigger practice in Lij. Perhaps they wouldn’t have gone because the town doctor had a reputation for not knowing his head from a hole in the ground, but before they left he specifically told them, “I really think you should go; I don’t know what is going on.” Neither of them had ever heard the town doctor admit to not knowing something before, so they went.

That sent them off down a long chain of doctors, each costing more than the last and each without answers. They finally ended up in the office of a doctor in Ketterdam who was finally able to tell them what was going on.

“Cancer?” Mrs. Rietveld said. She and Mr. Rietveld stared at each other in horror “What can you do?”

The fancy Ketterdam doctor shrugged. “If you would have come a couple months ago, perhaps I could have done something, but now there’s nothing I can do. Perhaps a Grisha Healer could do something.”

“Where can we find one?” Mr. Rietveld asked.

“There are a few stationed at the hospital here,” the doctor said.

“How much would it cost to see one?” Mrs. Rietveld asked.

The doctor named a truly astronomical sum.

For a few minutes they just stared in shock. They’d heard that Ketterdam would be expensive, but they hadn’t imagined anything like this. “Is there anyplace less expensive we could go?” Mr. Rietveld asked, perhaps a bit too bluntly.

“Every gang in the Barrel will claim to have a Healer on the payroll,” the doctor said with a shrug. He lit a cigarette and smoked it casually, like he wasn’t delivering a death sentence. “Most of them are lying. Those that aren’t give their Healers orders to make sure their patients stay sick so the gang can continue collecting money. You will find nothing down that avenue.”

Perhaps the doctor was hoping to pressure them into paying to use one of the hospital’s Healers, but it didn’t matter. The sum was so large that even if the Rietvelds had sold everything they owned they might not have been able to make it. They returned home with little hope and heavy hearts.

The next few months were another kind of torture. Once he knew what was wrong, the town doctor was more than willing to pretend to know how to cure it. Of course, he didn’t, but the Rietvelds were desperate so they played along. Hope buoyed them along, but it was hope in vain, because nothing helped.

When Kaz heard what had happened, he announced that there was nothing to worry about; he was going to heal his mother and everything would be fine. Nothing would persuade him otherwise. He tried to cure the cancer for months, never growing tired or giving up. He just kept trying doggedly no matter his failures.

Unfortunately, there are some things five-year-old only skilled in healing cuts mostly instinctively cannot fix. Cancer is one of them. No matter what Kaz did Mrs. Rietveld just got sicker and sicker, until finally they reached the end.

~~~~

“Jordie,” Mrs. Rietveld wheezed, reaching out and brushing her fingers along her older son’s face. “Take Kaz and go wait in the barn.”

“But-” Jordie said. “Mum…”

“Go,” she said with all the force she could manage. “I don’t want you to see this.”

Slowly, Jordie reached down and took Kaz’s hand. “Come on, Kaz,” he said. “Let’s go.”

That was the moment when Kaz realized what was going to happen. “No!” he twisted against Jordie’s grip on his hand. “No, no, no, no! Let go! I’m going to save her! I’m going to save her!”

“Kaz, we need to go,” Jordie wrapped his small, nine-year-old arms around his brother’s even smaller five-year-old torso and started to haul him backwards out of the room. “There’s nothing more you can do. It’s time to leave. Mum and Da don’t want you to see this.”

Kaz fought and kicked and screamed, but Jordie hauled him out of the house with all the strength he possessed. By the time they reached the barn Kaz had dissolved into sobs, but Jordie still hung on, afraid that if he let go his brother would rush back to the house. The brothers collapsed into the hay in one of the oxen’s stalls and huddled together in a miserable heap of grief. Buck--always the sort of dog who knew where he was most needed--followed them out of the house and licked at their faces and hands before settling down at their feet to wait.

Hours later, Mr. Rietveld came into the barn. He was walking slowly and his eyes were red with tears. He found the boys huddled together, their tears dry, waiting for him.

“Is she gone?” Jordie asked in a hushed voice. Like he was afraid it would be true if he spoke too loud.

“Yes,” Mr. Rietveld said. He searched for something comforting to say to his sons, but words escaped him.

Kaz shifted. “I could have saved her,” he whimpered. “I could have! You should have let me keep trying! I could have done it!”

Mr. Rietveld’s eyes filled up with tears. He reached out and gently pushed Kaz’s hair back from his face. “Oh, Kaz…” he whispered.

There was nothing else to say.


	5. After 2

After Nina tailored Wylan to look like Kuwei, providing them with a body-double which could be used to trick Van Eck if he tried to double-cross them, Kaz retired to his quarters, hoping for some peace and quiet. The reality of what Nina had just done was screaming through his head, making it hard to think about anything else. What Nina had just done shouldn’t have been possible. Sure, an extremely skilled Tailor could probably change someone’s appearance enough to make them look like someone else, but they would have to do it piece by piece. It would take forever. Nina hadn’t ever been much of a Tailor and she’d just waved her hand, and Wylan had looked like someone else.

Kaz threw himself down onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He knew that he should probably sleep. The sun was rising and who knew what new challenges there were going to be in an hour or so when Nina went into withdrawal. He needed to make sure he had enough energy to face whatever would be coming next, but he was still too worked up to sleep. He tossed and turned restlessly for a while, only the knowledge that if nothing else he should stay off his bad leg keeping him in the bed.

There was a knock on the door. He jerked up into a sitting position and tried to straighten his shirt and pants which had been disarranged by his restlessness. The rest of his clothes were hanging over the foot of the bunk. “What is it?” he called, trying to inject maximum annoyance into his voice. He’d come here because he’d wanted to be left alone.

“It’s me,” Inej said from the other side of the door. “Can I come in?”

Kaz’s stomach twisted. He did not want to face her, but if he told her not to come in now, it would be obvious that he was avoiding her. He could not do that. He needed Inej on his side right now, even if she was planning to leave him alone when they got back to Ketterdam.

Plus, he really didn’t want Inej to be mad at him…

“Come in,” he called.

Inej pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing the door firmly behind her. She took a look at Kaz’s appearance. “Did I wake you?” she asked, like she’d ever seen Kaz sleep before.

“You didn’t wake me,” Kaz pushed himself to his feet and avoided wincing when he put weight on his bad leg only by sheer force of will. “I’m too worked up to sleep.” He started getting dressed, partially for something to do so he didn’t have to look at her and partially because he didn’t like the idea of having this conversation while half-dressed.

When Inej didn’t say anything for a couple minutes, he turned slightly to look at her. She was watching him with a fiercely blank expression on her face. It was the sort of expression she wore when she felt a lot but didn’t want other people to know.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked.

“We’ve been working together for years, Kaz,” Inej said. “In all that time, it never occurred to you to mention that you were a Heartrender? You know, as a matter of general interest?”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Kaz feigned realization. “You’re mad that I didn’t tell you.”

“That doesn’t work on me,” Inej said. “You know that’s why I’m upset. Otherwise you wouldn’t be avoiding me like I have firepox.”

She had him there.

“The thing is, that I’m not even really surprised,” she said conversationally. “Knowing you’re Grisha actually explains a number of little things that never made sense about you. How you knew putting paraffin on your arms would fool a living amplifier, for example. Why you were always so sure Jesper had to be using his powers. How you always seemed to know more about Grisha and their powers than any non-Grisha I’ve ever met and never believed any of the old wife’s tales. What happened to Martinus Alfons.”

“He had a heart attack,” Kaz protested, his own heart rate speeding up.

“Per Haskell might have believed that, but I never did,” Inej said. “I saw him two minutes before he died and he was perfectly fine. You told me that you heard something and that I should go check it out. I did. There was nothing, and when I got back, he was dead. You got rid of me so you could kill him with your powers.”

Kaz couldn’t deny it. Her version of events was correct. “You can’t say you feel bad for him,” he said. “He was sick.”

“He was disgusting and the things he did to all those girls were even worse,” Inej said. “I’m not angry you killed him. I’m angry that you didn’t think you could trust me to know how you did it.”

“What can I say, Wraith?” Kaz asked. “What’s done is done.”

“I just said that I’m not angry about what you did to him,” Inej said. “I just wish you would have trusted me to know what had actually happened. It bothers me that you didn’t trust me to keep it a secret. It bothers me that you thought your secret was so important that you couldn’t even reveal it to me to save my life.”

“What are you talking about?” Kaz asked.

“When I got stabbed before we left Ketterdam,” Inej said. “You could have healed me yourself; you didn’t need Nina to do it. It’s not like she’s any more of a Healer than you are. Or at least you could have helped her.”

“You still survived anyway,” Kaz shot back. It wasn’t a good response but the thought of Inej bleeding out in his arms was something he’d been pushing back since it had happened. “It had to be Nina. It absolutely had to be Nina.”

“That’s not the point, Kaz,” Inej said. “The point is that you didn’t trust me to keep a secret. I would never have betrayed you. When have I ever given the impression that I would betray you?”

She never had, but Kaz had lost the ability to trust people years before he’d met her. “It’s not like you don’t have things you’ve never told me,” he said.

“I really don’t,” Inej said. “I’ve always been mostly honest with you, and the stuff I tried to hide you always found out about anyway. All I wanted was a little indication that maybe you trusted me back and actually cared that I’m here.”

“I care,” Kaz said. “I swear I care. I want you to stay.”

“But why would I stay?” Inej asked. “When I know that you will always be turned away so we can never touch? When I don’t know when I might discover another integrally important thing about you that you decided I wasn’t trustworthy enough to know? How am I supposed to trust you knowing that you know everything about me but I only know what you tell me?”

“Inej-” Kaz said. He wasn’t sure what to say to defuse this. To make her stay. He wasn’t even sure if he should try. She was right; he had known that she wouldn’t tell anyone he was Grisha, but he still hadn’t trusted her. He also knew that the reason he hadn’t tried to heal her himself had nothing to do with revealing himself, but the thought of saying the real reason was so pathetic and exposing he couldn’t do it.

“I will have you without your armor, Kaz Brekker,” Inej said. “Or I will not have you at all.”

She waited, giving him time to respond, but he didn’t. He couldn’t even pretend he really wanted to say the things she needed to hear to stay. He knew he probably should say them, but he couldn’t do it. It wasn’t safe, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t kill the part of him that was still a pathetic child who just wanted to be safe.

Inej nodded slowly, like her suspicions had been confirmed and she didn’t like it, then she turned and left the cabin, leaving Kaz standing alone.


	6. Before 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, Character Death

In the aftermath of Mrs. Rietveld’s death, the surviving Rietvelds tried to continue on. Unfortunately, things were not as hopeful as they had once been. Kaz went through phases when he wouldn’t talk to either his father or Jordie because he blamed them for keeping him from trying to save his mother, and phases of blaming himself for not being able to save her in all the attempts he had made.

There was also the problem of money. All the savings the Rietvelds had been building to send Kaz to Ravka had been spent on doctors who either couldn’t or were too greedy to truly help. Mr. Rietveld swore up and down that Kaz would still go to Ravka, but that didn’t solve their problem. As the years went by, the Rietveld family fell further and further into debt.

If only the tragedy could have ended there, but of course it was only beginning. When Kaz was nine and Jordie was thirteen, it was time to plant crops. One of the oxen was acting up, kicking and refusing to work. The ox was so much trouble that if money wasn’t so tight, Mr. Rietveld might have just decided to do the plowing another day, but they’d had to sell their plow last fall to pay for food and were borrowing a different one from the neighbors. Mr. Rietveld didn’t want to keep the plow for another day so he chained up the oxen and headed out to the fields.

Kaz and Jordie went along. There job was to pick up the stones which the plow turned up and carry them to the side of the field. They’d only been working for half an hour or so when tragedy struck.

Kaz had carried a rock to the side of the field and then been distracted by something in the grass. He was creeping after it when Jordie started screaming behind him. His brother’s voice was so full of fear and pain that he immediately whirled around and pounded back out into the field.

What he saw was absolutely horrifying 

The oxen had stampeded and Mr. Rietveld had been caught under the plow. There was blood everywhere. Kaz stopped, ankle-deep in the freshly plowed soil, frozen. Someone was screaming and screaming and screaming. It took Kaz a horribly long time to realize that he was the one screaming.

“I’m going to get Mr. Andela!” Jordie yelled and took off running across the field in the direction of their neighbor’s farm.

Kaz stepped towards his father on numb legs. He didn’t want to go closer, but he felt like he had to. He could fix this. He had to fix this. He needed to fix this. He hadn’t been able to save his mother so he needed to save his father instead. What was the use of being a Healer when you couldn’t heal anyone when they needed it most?

Kaz dropped to the soft dirt beside his father He looked at the gaping wound in his father’s stomach and recoiled in horror. After a moment he forced himself to look back. He was not a baby; he was a Grisha Healer and he was going to fix this. Carefully he set his hands on Mr. Rietveld’s wound and closed his eyes. He reached out with his powers in the crude, mostly instinctive way he had learned himself.

He was overwhelmed by the sheer scope of the damage. If he had thought he might have more success at this because a wound was more like a small cut than cancer was, he was sadly mistaken. The wound was a thousand times worse than any cut he had ever healed. There were ruined organs and blood vessels and capillaries and muscles, most of which he didn’t know how to name let alone heal. Trapped in the knowledge of just how out of his league his was, he could do nothing but try to force all his powers at the injury and beg it to “heal, heal, heal, please heal.”

Perhaps the bleeding slowed a little, perhaps the wound closed just slightly, but that didn’t change the fact that when Jordie returned with Thijs Andela and his teenage son, Mr. Rietveld was still bleeding out into the dirt.

“Kaz!” Jordie sprinted across the field and pulled Kaz away before the others could get close enough to see what he was doing.

Kaz struggled, trying to get back to their father. He was soaked in blood. “Let me go! I’m going to fix it! I’m going to-”

Jordie clamped a hand over his mouth. “No,” he hissed into his ear. “You’ve done all you can. We can’t let Mr. Andela figure out what you are; especially not now.”

Mr. Andela was kneeling over Mr. Rietveld’s motionless body. “Timo,” he said to his son.

“Yes, Da?”

“Take Jordie and Kaz back to the house and tell your ma what happened,” Mr. Andela said. “And go get your brother and Ignaas Haak.”

“Alright, Da,” Timo came over to Kaz and Jordie, carefully circumventing all the gore. “Let’s go to my house, alright?”

Kaz screamed and cried and struggled. He yelled some things which would have given him away, but thankfully he was too hysterical for anyone to understand him. Eventually, Timo got over his distaste for all the blood Kaz was covered him and lifted him over his shoulder. Kaz kept screaming and pounded on Timo’s shoulder with his fists.

“I hate you!” he screamed at Jordie. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

Jordie, tears running freely down his cheeks, said nothing.


	7. After 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence

Kaz might have been a stupid boy, but he’d taken steps to ensure he was not a stupid man. That was why he’d figured the chances Van Eck would try to avoid paying them were too good to be ignored. That was why he’d told Nina to Tailor Wylan before the  _ parem _ high had worn off. Given that there was an equal or better chance that Van Eck was going to try to double-cross them, he figured it was best to have as much insurance as possible.

Turned out he’d been right, as per usual.

Jesper stared out at the sinking  _ Ferolind _ , his eyes wide with shock. Even though Jesper had known that they were going to be using Wylan as a body double for Kuwei, but Kaz had been sure not to tell him anything else. Inej thought that was unnecessary given that there were no other gangs for Jesper to inadvertently tell, but she and Kaz weren’t exactly talking enough to get in an argument, so it had been fine.

As Matthias calmed Jesper, Van Eck began gloating and Kaz turned his attention back to getting what they’d earned. It was obvious that Van Eck hadn’t thought Kaz would realize they’d probably be betrayed; he’d assumed the Barrel Rats were too stupid to realize he wouldn’t part with four million  _ kruge _ if he could help it. Kaz knew that he should probably be thankful to be underestimated. It was always easier to get what you wanted when people thought you weren’t smart enough to get it, but he found he was getting really sick of people not fearing him as much as they should.

At least Van Eck’s response to realizing the boy he’d thought was Kuwei Yul-Bo was actually Wylan was satisfying. It was obvious that if Van Eck underestimated Kaz he underestimated Wylan about a thousand times more. A small, deeply buried sentimental part of Kaz was pleased to have given Wylan the chance to prove his father wrong.

Of course, that was the point when things started to fall apart. “ _ Where is Kuwei Yul-Bo? _ ” Van Eck demanded.

Kaz stayed casual. “Let us off this island with our payment, and I’ll gladly tell you.”

Van Eck’s face was rigid with the effort it took to keep from sneering. “You have no way out of this, Brekker. Your little crew is no match for my Grisha.”

“Kill us, and you’ll never find Kuwei,” Kaz said.

Van Eck stared at him, thinking. Kaz watched the merch consider his options. He refused to let his expression change.

Van Eck stepped away and shouted, “Guards to me! Kill everyone but Brekker!”

For years, Kaz had focused on making himself as cold and cruel as possible. He’d taught himself to never give away his real intentions. He’d learned early on that the best way to stay safe in Ketterdam was to never let anyone hit you where it really hurt.

Knowing that he should have been able to keep his cool and keep from giving anything away, but he couldn’t. When Van Eck threatened them his first thought was of Inej. She might be angry at him, but he cared what happened to her, far, far more than he should. Without thought he looked to her. Their eyes met and he saw her realize what he’d just done. Her eyes got big and her mouth began to open.

Perhaps it would have been okay if Van Eck hadn’t been so damn observant. Almost before Kaz realized what he’d just done, the merch was screaming out new orders, “Leave the others! Get the money and the girl.”

The Grisha attacked. The code Kaz had lived by all these years said to leave Inej to fend for herself and instead focus on the money, but he couldn’t. He was sprinting towards her without thought, without logic, without a plan.

Inej got the first two, then Jesper got one more. The next one was smart enough to approach so that the sun was in Jesper and Matthias’s eyes and they couldn’t fire. As the Squaller approached, Kaz drew his pistol and pulled the trigger.

The gun jammed.

“Fuck!” Kaz screamed, completely abandoning composure. He slashed out with his free hand and his powers. The Squaller fell from the sky like a sack of grain, Inej twisting free. Kaz felt no revulsion, only panic. _ She was going to smash into the sand and-- _

Another Squaller caught Inej before she hit the ground and rendered her swiftly unconscious. Kaz raised his hands as he barreled across the sand. He’d completely given up the pretense of subtlety, all that mattered was making sure Inej was safe.

But the Squaller kept getting higher and higher and further and further out over the water. They weren’t out of range yet. Kaz’s range wasn’t quite as far as a Little Palace trained Grisha, but it was still far enough. The problem was that Inej was unconscious. If he killed the Squaller now, she’d fall into the harbor and be unable to stay afloat. Kaz wasn’t sure if he could even step into the harbor without panicking, and even if he could, he wasn’t a strong enough swimmer to reach her before she drowned. He wasn’t going to be able to save her.

He skidded to a stop just feet from the water, panting for breath.

“Interesting,” Van Eck’s voice drew him back from the wordless horror of watching Inej be carried away. “Who would have thought Kaz Brekker would turn out to be Grisha? Hidden depths, indeed.” Kaz’s stomach twisted.  _ No. _ It must have shown on his face because Van Eck laughed. “You have one week to bring me the real Kuwei,” he yelled. “Or they’ll hear that girl’s screams all the way back in Fjerda. And if that still doesn’t move you, I’ll let it be known that you’re harboring the most valuable hostage in the world. Every gang, government, smuggler, and spy will be after you and the Dregs. You’ll have nowhere to hide.” He didn’t say what he was going to do with the knowledge of Kaz’s powers. He was going to make Kaz keep guessing, waiting for the shoe to drop.

Kaz’s ears were ringing. He wasn’t sure if it was from rage; fear for Inej; or blind, animalistic terror at the idea of all of Ketterdam knowing his greatest secret. He felt like he was going to throw up. He barely heard Jesper asking if he should shoot a Van Eck.

“No, let them go,” Kaz heard himself say, his voice sounded distant, like someone else was speaking.

Van Eck and his minions left. Vaguely Kaz was aware of the others talking, discussing their options, but he couldn’t think straight. Jesper was wondering why he hadn’t been let in on the full plan and all Kaz could think was that if he had to explain how Jesper had betrayed them from the start he was going to punch the other boy in the face. He turned and stalked away.

As he walked he tried to slow his heartbeat with his powers. Normally he could do it fairly easily but today he couldn’t focus enough. He stretched his fingers to feel the leather of his gloves pulling at his hands. Generally calmed him, but today it didn’t. His hands fluttered in a motion that was too large to be a shake, more like a flap. He forced himself to stop and straightened his gloves. His fingers brushed against his wrist and he nearly jumped out of his skin. If he was going to start reacting like that to his own touch things were really bad. He needed to calm down.

“Brekker,” someone said from beside him. “Kaz.” he looked up to see Matthias standing next to him, an unusually kind look on his face. “It’s going to be okay,” he said.

Kaz would never have pegged the Fjerdan as an optimist.


	8. Before 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Character Death

For the first few weeks after his father’s death, Kaz wouldn’t speak to anyone, let alone Jordie. The Andelas muttered to each other about how hard Kaz was taking the death of his father and wondered about what had made him so angry at Jordie. Eventually they decided it must be an expression of grief and that he would come around. 

Jordie, of course, knew differently. As a result, he stayed out of Kaz’s way as much as possible during those first few weeks. On his part, Kaz wasn’t exactly sure what he planned to accomplish by giving Jordie the silent treatment, all he knew was that it was better than admitting that he was the one who had failed to save their father and that the whole thing was ultimately his fault. 

The brothers were so at odds that Kaz didn’t even realize Jordie was making plans for the future until they were already in place. The subject finally came up in his presence once night at dinner when Mr. Andela mentioned that he and Jordie had finalized the sale of the farm.

“Sale?” Kaz asked looking up from his food. “Why are you selling your farm?”

Mr. Andela looked extremely uncomfortable for a moment and threw a look at Jordie, as if looking for help. That was something which Kaz would think ridiculous later in life--Jordie was a kid, he should have been looking to Mr. Andela for help, not the other way around.

“I sold our farm, Kaz,” Jordie said. He sounded like he was trying to sound confident, but he failed miserably.

“You did what?” Kaz stared. “But we’ve always lived there! Mum and Da are there! Why would you sell it?”

“The two of us can’t run the farm on our own and we can’t afford to hire anyone to help us,” Jordie said. “We’ll take the money and go to Ketterdam; anyone can make a fortune there.”

Kaz stared at his brother open-mouthed. “But...why didn’t you tell me? You could have asked me what I thought.”

“How was I supposed to do that, Kaz?” Jordie asked. “You haven’t looked at me in weeks.”

Kaz felt a crushing sense of shame, but managed to keep his face straight. “But we’re not from Ketterdam,” he said. “We’re from here.”

“There’s nothing there for us now but ghosts,” Jordie said. “You know that as well as I do, Kaz.”

And Kaz did know that. As much as he might have put up a stink and moped and shouted in the weeks that followed, ultimately he was just keeping up appearances: he didn’t want to stay any more than Jordie did.

~~~~

There were a number of things that Kaz never got the chance to tell Jordie before things went wrong. One of them was that he actually loved Ketterdam with all its wildness and strangeness and all the bright colors and interesting people. Kaz was used to the way the word was down south, but in Ketterdam it was like stepping into a storybook. There was always something new to see and explore and even when Kaz was scared or intimidated he was still just as curious.

Their second day in Ketterdam they were walking to a restaurant they had found the day before when they passed a street performer with a crowd around her. They stopped to watch, peeking through the gaps in the crowd because they had been taught never to shove and hadn’t been in Ketterdam long enough to learn that good old-fashioned southern manners got you nowhere.

The woman was dressed in a blue robe that had been designed to look Ravkan in the sense that any Kerch person looking at it would think of Ravka not necessarily that it was actually made in a Ravkan style. As Kaz, Jordie and the crowd watched she gestured with her hands and twin columns of water rose out of the pots on either side of her. They formed into shapes recognizable as characters from a popular Kerch fairy tale. When the shapes had formed she began to speak, telling the story. As she spoke she moved her hands and the columns of water moved to illustrate her words. As the story went on, she made the water reshape itself over and over, forming whatever shapes she needed for the story.

“She’s a Tidemaker,” Kaz breathed, reverent. He’d had years to get used to the idea of being Grisha himself, but this was the first time he’d ever seen another Grisha up close. The concrete realization that he was not the only Grisha in the world almost moved him to tears. He had never wanted to go to Ravka as badly as he did in that moment. He wanted to be able to live surrounded by people like this woman who could do amazing things. He wanted to learn to do amazing things too. He wanted to stop hiding.

When the woman was finished with her show she bowed and made the columns of water bow with her. Then she gestured towards the hat she’d set out for tips and thanked everyone who stepped forward with an offering. Kaz tried to slip through the crowd to reach her, but Jordie grabbed his arm.

“What are you doing?” Kaz asked. “I want to talk to her!”

“I know what you want to do,” Jordie hissed in his ear, hauling him away. “You want to tell her what you are, but you can’t.”

“But she’s Grisha too!” Kaz protested, trying to plant his feet and pull away, but Jordie was taller and stronger than he was. “We can trust her!”

“Sure, but we can’t trust anyone else,” Jordie said. “It’s not any safer for Grisha here than it is down south. What if she gets captured by someone who wants to use her powers and they make her give the names of every Grisha she knows? You need to be just as careful about who you tell here as you were at home. It’s still not safe.”

“It’s never safe,” Kaz grumbled, but he stopped trying to go back and if Jordie deliberately avoided the street corner where they’d seen the Tidemaker preform from then on, neither of them mentioned it. Given the slew of incredibly poor decisions Jordie would make while driven by greed in the coming months, years later Kaz would muse that he was lucky Jordie had held onto enough sense to know that Kaz’s secret was still of the utmost importance.

~~~~

Kaz really like Mr. Hertzoon. The man was nothing like Kaz’s father, but there was something fatherly about him. You believed he had your best interests at heart and as a result you just had to trust him.

Kaz also liked Mr. Hertzoon’s house and his family and the sense of peace which permeated the entire thing. Being in Mr. Hertzoon’s house was like being home and as much as Kaz loved Ketterdam he was still bitterly homesick. He knew Jordie felt the same because he looked forward to going there as much as Kaz did. Jordie’s job for Mr. Hertzoon, the money he offered them and the sense of familiarity of his home did wonders to repair the damage that their father’s death had left on their relationship. They apologized for all that each had said and done in the previous months while sitting on Mr. Hertzoon’s carpet and for the first time in a while everything seemed to be right in the world.

“You know, you’re a very interesting little boy,” Mr. Hertzoon said to Kaz one night.

Kaz had been so engrossed in petting the Hertzoons’ dog--they’d left Buck with the farm and Kaz missed him bitterly--that he jumped at Mr. Hertzoon’s voice. He flushed in embarrassment. “Thank you, sir, but I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Mr. Hertzoon snorted and settled down onto the rug next to Kaz with a grunt. “Very good manners too,” his tone of voice was a little odd but Kaz couldn’t put a finger on why.

“Why do you think I’m interesting, sir?” Kaz repeated.

“Can’t quite put my finger on why,” Mr. Hertzoon said. “But there’s something about you.”

_ “It’s because I’m Grisha.”  _ Kaz wanted to say, but stopped himself at the last minute. He wanted to tell Mr. Hertzoon and he felt like he could trust him, but Jordie had said not to tell anyone and so had their parents. Kaz had never even told the Andelas and he’d known them all his life. He had only known Mr. Hertzoon for a couple weeks; there would be plenty of time to tell him once he got to know him better.

“I still don’t understand what you mean, Mr. Hertzoon,” he said.

That lie was one of the best decisions he ever made.

~~~~

Several weeks later Kaz and Jordie huddled together in a pile of boxes, Jordie shivering from fever. When he had first gotten sick, Jordie had tried to convince Kaz it was nothing to worry about. He’d claimed it was just from sleeping outside in the damp, that it would blow over in a few days just like a cold. Kaz hadn’t believed him, just he hadn’t believed that his mother was okay, but he didn’t say so. The precarious thread their lives were balanced on felt too fragile to take it. It felt like if they were going to make it the fact that Kaz could tell exactly how serious Jordie’s illness was couldn’t be acknowledged.

Unsurprisingly, Jordie didn’t bounce back. He just got sicker and sicker, and soon he was too sick to keep pretending that nothing was wrong. Kaz, of course, was fine. Grisha didn’t get sick, even when the sickness was the horrible plague of firepox. As Jordie became too weak to try to stop him, Kaz began to attempt to heal him.

Unfortunately, the firepox was just so big. It wasn’t one big wound to heal like it had been with his father or even a tumor like with his mother. Firepox was millions upon millions of malicious attackers which each had to be handled, while more sprung up faster than he could deal with them. The Grisha Healers of Ketterdam would later speak of the Queen’s Lady Plague in hushed voices and with fear; even a fully Little Palace trained Healer had trouble curing firepox, let alone a nine-year-old child.

Still, Kaz didn’t know this, and even if he had it wouldn’t have meant anything. He spent all his time waging a losing war against the plague which was eating his brother’s strength away bit by bit. As the days slid past and Jordie’s condition only worsened Kaz became more and more frantic. He stopped eating, he stopped drinking, he stopped sleeping. He did nothing but spend all his time with his hands on Jordie’s chest trying to stave off death, and Jordie did nothing but get worse.

On some level Kaz must have known that the end was coming even if he refused to admit it to himself. He was a Healer after all, and all Healers can tell a hopeless case when they see one. However, Kaz refused to give up on Jordie. Jordie was all he had left.

Ultimately, however, there was nothing he could do. Eventually the sickness grew too much to even be held back by one small Grisha boy. This time, unlike with his parents, Kaz felt Jordie go. He felt Jordie’s breathing fade out and his heart stutter and stop. He screamed and begged and struggled with all his power to keep him, but it was no use. Jordie was gone.

“Don’t leave me,” Kaz sobbed, pressing his head against Jordie’s still chest. He cried and rocked back and forth for what felt like forever, but it changed nothing: Jordie was still gone.

By the time the body collectors came by Kaz had sunk into a semiconscious haze of exhaustion and grief. He didn’t have the motivation or energy to fight when they scooped him and Jordie up and carried them to the cart. What did it matter what happened to him now? Kaz wondered. It couldn’t be worse than what already had.

Then they were dumped on the Reaper’s Barge and he learned just how wrong he was.


	9. After 4

The crypt on Black Veil was dark, cold and dirty. Kaz had definitely stayed in worse places, but he almost expected the rest of the crew to complain. They didn’t. They simply set down their meager possessions and tried to get comfortable.

“We’re going to need food and bedrolls,” Matthias said after a while, coming over to where Kaz was standing in the entrance way of the tomb. “We didn’t realize we weren’t going to be able to return to the Slat so we didn’t take as much off the _Ferolind_ as we should have. It’s still too cold to go without blankets. Especially for Nina.”

Kaz almost snapped and told Matthias that at least it was spring, but then forced himself to calm down. He was still shaken from the beach and from their meeting with Pekka Rollins. He’d been so terrified that Rollins would know his biggest secret, but he hadn’t appeared to. It was likely Van Eck would wait for them to not hand over Kuwei before telling, which really sucked because there was no way they were giving him Kuwei.

“Kaz?” Matthias asked and Kaz realized he’d never responded.

He shook himself and tried to focus. “You and Jesper will have to get supplies. I don’t want to risk Kuwei and Wylan being seen in broad daylight and Nina’s too ill.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out one of the thick stacks of _kruge_ Rollins had given them. He peeled off a hundred _kruge_ note and held it out to Matthias. “Be careful where you break that. Rollins paid us entirely in hundreds--strikes me as calculated to piss me off. Bills this big will raise eyebrows in the markets especially with how disheveled you and Jes are. You don’t want the local thieves to decide you’re loaded or worse the _stadwatch_ to notice.”

“Where will you be?” Matthias asked without taking the money.

Kaz gazed out of the tomb. A gray dawn was gathering. the Exchange would open soon, and he needed to be there when it did. He hoped Sweet Reef stocks were selling; he wasn’t sure what he’d do if they weren’t. “I’m going to set some plans in motion.” he said, offering the bill to Matthias again.

Matthias looked down at the bill and then back up at Kaz. “Do you want me to come with you?” he asked. The complete turn around from his attitude just a few weeks before was a little surprising.

“I want you to take Jesper and get supplies,” Kaz snapped. He could feel his temper flaring up along with his panicky heartbeat. He used his powers to slow it again; at least he’d regained the ability to do that. “That’s what you came over here asking about. I do not need to be babysat.”

Matthias gave him a look that said he highly doubted that, but he took the _kruge_ anyway. “At least let us head out with you,” he said.

“Then get Jes because I’m leaving now.”

“Alright,” Matthias nodded and pocketed the _kruge_. “We’ll be just a minute,” and he headed further back into the tomb to find Jesper.

~~~~

Going to the exchange during daylight hours was always an interesting experience. First there was the memory of Jordie hoping for a job there to contend with. Then there was the oddity of being in such a legitimate place when he was such an illegitimate person. He remembered coming to the Exchange on errands back when he’d first joined the Dregs and jumping at everything that moved, waiting for someone to realize he was a familyless street child and throw him out.

Now he was much more confident. The Exchange occupied an interesting part of Ketterdam’s social sphere. The people who worked there were well to do enough to look down on the gangs and the poor, but not so rich that the law couldn’t touch them. As a result, they were a class of people who lauded their own superiority over everyone else with very little self-awareness.

The truly useful thing about the Exchange merchants was that they thought all members of the gangs dressed in garish colors and wore their tattoos in plain view. If Kaz ditched his cane, put on an affable smile and made small talk they assumed he was one of them.

Still he was cautious when he entered the Exchange and stayed as far from Van Eck’s employees as possible. He wasn’t sure if the merchant would risk letting his employees know to look for Kaz and the others, but he figured you couldn’t be too careful. Fortunately, he was able to find the right place without trouble, get what he needed and get out as quickly as possible.

He beat Matthias and Jesper back to the boat and was sitting in it stretching out his bad leg when they returned, his pockets emptied of _kruge_. They were both lugging bedrolls and bags of food. Kaz hauled himself out of the boat, shaking out his bad leg before he went to help them. When they got back into the boat he realized Matthias was watching him with a frown.

“What?” he snapped.

“Just wondering,” Matthias said. “Given you’re a Corporalnik, why didn’t you heal your leg when you broke it?”

Jesper hissed air out between his teeth but Matthias didn’t seem to see anything wrong with his question. Kaz took a slow breath before he spoke, “Helvar.”

“Yes?” Matthias asked, a little uncertainty creeping into his voice.

“I broke the kneecaps of the last person who asked me why I didn’t pay a Healer to fix my leg,” he said in a deadly quiet voice. “What makes you think I’m any more open to answering questions about why I didn’t heal myself?”

Matthias blinked at him, not exactly afraid but definitely a little uncomfortable. Jesper began to row down the canal with all the focus of someone trying desperately to stay out of it. Kaz knew him well enough to know he was curious as well, but also that--unlike Matthias--he wouldn’t ask.

“Just start rowing before one of Van Eck’s goons spots us and decides to follow us to figure out where we’re hiding Kuwei,” Kaz told him and focused on rowing himself.

~~~~

Nothing had changed at the tomb in the time they’d been gone. They all settled in with their new supplies and still no complaints. Jesper teased Wylan a little, but it was obvious his heart wasn’t in it. Inej’s loss hung heavy over them all. It was driving Kaz nuts. He had his plan to get their money from Van Eck in motion but he was still no closer to figuring out how to rescue her. There was no way in hell he was handing Kuwei over to Van Eck, and even if they did, he doubted that he would stick to his deal and give Inej back when he’d already proven himself to be so untrustworthy. Kaz needed a plan. He just wasn’t sure what.

He spent the rest of the day puzzling over the subject. The others left him alone; seemingly understanding that he would not respond well to being bothered.

He was standing in the entrance to the tomb again, watching the sun vanish over the tops of the buildings when Matthias finally approached him.

“What?” Kaz asked flatly.

“I wanted to apologize for what I said this morning,” Matthias said quietly. “I can see why that would be insulting.”

Kaz was not in the business of giving or accepting apologies; he hadn’t been in years. “The only reason I didn’t break your kneecaps too is because I need you for this scheme,” he said instead, not bothering to look in Matthias’s direction. “Say something like that again and I won’t even hesitate, regardless of how much I’ll need you.”

“Understood,” Matthias said with a nod, swallowing hard.

They stood in silence for a long time. Kaz waited for the Fjerdan to go back to Nina but he didn’t. “We’ve got sandwiches inside if you’re hungry,” Matthias ventured after a while. “Do you want me to make one for you?”

“Don’t bother,” Kaz said. Why wouldn’t Matthias just go away and let him think? He needed to plan.

“When was the last time you ate?” Matthias asked.

Kaz didn’t remember. Probably the night before they’d arrived in Ketterdam. “I’m fine.”

“You should eat,” Matthias said. “The last thing we need is you passing out on us.”

“I’m not going to pass out,” Kaz said. “I can keep myself from passing out.”

“I know you can, but that doesn’t mean you should,” Matthias said in a tone of voice that reminded Kaz Matthias had been a _drüskelle_ and had more formal training about Kaz’s abilities than Kaz did.

“I do not need you mothering me,” Kaz snapped. He didn’t like the idea that Matthias might understand him that well. “Go back to taking care of Nina, unless you have something else to tell me.”

“Actually, I do,” Matthias reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch Kaz recognized as the one containing the remains of the _parem_ they’d taken from the Ice Court. “I wanted to ask you to hold onto this.”

“You and Nina should have burned that along with the rest of the lab,” Kaz said coolly, not moving to take the pouch.

“Fair, I suppose,” Matthias said. “But I can’t hold onto it anymore. Nina knows I have it and I’m afraid she’s going to start going through my pockets while I sleep to find it.”

Kaz stared at the little pouch. “Why are you offering it to me?”

“I can give it to Wylan if it makes you uncomfortable,” Matthias said, completely missing the point.

“That’s not what I meant,” Kaz said. “I’m Grisha. How is giving it to me any different than giving it to Jesper or Nina?”

“You won’t take it,” Matthias said with a kind of conviction which caught Kaz off guard.

“And what makes you so sure?”

“You hate the stuff,” Matthias said. “It’s obvious; every time someone so much as mentions it. I’d noticed it back when you first recruited me too, but I wasn’t able to figure out why you cared so much.”

That...was an uncomfortable realization to say the least. If the events of the last few days were any indication, Kaz really needed to reassess how good he was at hiding his weaknesses. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t take it if there was no other way out,” he said slowly.

“You wouldn’t do something that selfless,” Matthias said, apparently not considering if that would be insulting. “Your not the kind of person who would chew their own paw off to save anyone.”

Kaz was tempted to point out that was exactly what he’d done to get them out of Fjerda, but it wouldn’t do to show he’d been insulted. He also was uncomfortably aware that if he’d had the _parem_ when Inej had been captured, he’d have taken it in a heartbeat. It probably was a good thing that hadn’t been an option; he knew Inej well enough to know she wouldn’t have wanted him to do that.

“Fine, I’ll hold onto it,” Kaz held out his hand and Matthias dropped the pouch into his palm. “I warn you, though; I will kill Nina if she tries to touch me.”

“I’m aware,” Matthias said. “And so is she.”

Again that uncomfortable feeling of being seen. Kaz hated it. Most people in the Barrel knew not to touch him, so he wasn’t sure why it felt so much more intrusive when his crew mentioned it. Maybe it was because they didn’t sound scared when they talked about it. It made it seem like they might have guessed why.

Kaz closed his fingers around the pouch and used the knee-jerk feeling of revulsion to push all other thoughts out of his head as he slid it into his pocket.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come in and have some supper?” Matthias asked. The vague concern in his voice made Kaz want to break his jaw.

“I said I was fine,” he snapped. “How much do I have to do to get you to listen to me?”

“Alright,” Matthias held up his hands and started to retreat into the tomb, then he paused and said, “We’re going to get Inej back, Kaz, you don’t need to worry.”

“I know we’re going to get her back,” Kaz snapped. “And I’m not worrying.”

“Sure,” Matthias said in a tone of voice which suggested Kaz wasn’t meant to hear him and headed back into the tomb.


	10. Before 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: PTSD, the stadwatch

It took Kaz almost three months after Jordie’s death and the horrible swim back from the Reaper’s Barge to use his powers again. In the immediate aftermath he thought that he would never use his powers again. After all, they had failed him so many times that it seemed there was little point in having them at all. It seemed that every time he tried to save someone, they died anyway. What was the point of being a Healer if the only person you could heal was your own worthless self?

The few months after the barge were hard. Kaz was now completely alone in the world. There wasn’t a single soul in Ketterdam who cared whether he lived or died and who knew what the people he’d known back on the farm thought had happened to him. If he wanted to survive, he had to take care of himself; there would be no one coming to save him.

So he survived. He kept his head down and learned. The Barrel had no shortage of homeless orphans populating its streets. Kaz watched them and learned to live the way they did. He learned how to avoid the  _ stadwatch _ officers who tended to sell orphans to work houses under the guise of providing children with indentures and apprenticeships which would give them a way out of poverty. He learned where to hide during bad weather and how to avoid the gangs of bigger kids who would beat him up and take anything he had that they wanted.

Sometimes, in the dark of night, when he was unusually cold or hungry or scared, he thought about sneaking onto a barge and going back to the countryside, but he never went through with it. What was there for him in the country anymore? He couldn’t very well go back to the Andelas and ask them to take him in. They had known and cared for Kaz Rietveld, but Kaz Rietveld was dead. Kaz was still trying to figure out who this new Kaz was, but he knew he wasn’t someone the Andelas would accept anymore.

Kaz was a fast learner, so he got the hang of his new life quickly. He learned to steal and to pick pockets. Then he got his job emptying pisspots. The pay was horrible and the job demeaning, but at least it meant he could count on being able to buy at least one loaf of bread a week. It also gave him the chance to watch the adults play cards and he learned quickly.

Despite the fact that things were, well, not exactly looking up but at least not actively crashing and burning, he only grew more tired and weak and hopeless as the weeks went by. Whenever he looked back on that time, Kaz refused to acknowledge the role that his own emotional state and the fact that he couldn’t sleep through the night without waking up screaming from nightmares played in the whole thing. Still that didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t used his powers in months, far longer than he ever had before.

One day after several weeks at work, he overheard some adults talking about a shipment of fine tableware which was being held in a poorly secured warehouse near the water. The adults talked about how much money each piece would sell for, unaware that Kaz was listening. If he got a couple of those pieces and sold them he’d have more money than he’d had since Jakob Hertzoon had scammed him and Jordie. He could buy food and shoes and new clothes. Maybe he could even afford to spend a night or two in an inn. He missed sleeping in a bed, even if he was doing precious little sleeping these days.

When night fell, he made his way to the warehouse. He was far from the only person who had heard the rumor and there was a crowd. Fortunately he was little and had long since abandoned the fear of being trampled, so when a couple people broke the locks on the warehouse door, he slid between the legs of the clamoring mob and made for the crates.

The crate he chose was full of plates. They were delicate things painted with picturesque scenes of rural cottages in deep blue. Kaz stuffed as many as he could under his grimmy shirt, avoiding the attention of the adults who were already beginning to fight over the haul.

Then the  _ stadwatch _ whistles began to blow. Instantly the already chaotic raid turned to absolute mayhem. People raced in every direction trying to escape, but all the exits were barred and covered by  _ stadwatch _ who shouted that they were under arrest and should surrender.

In later years, Kaz would know that set-ups like this one came and went in the Barrel fairly regularly. Every once and a while a handful of members of the Merchant Council would get drunk on nobility and start preaching about how they were going to clean up the Barrel and make Ketterdam a morally upright city. Instead of addressing the underlying social issues that relegated so many to lives of crime, they tended to advocate for arresting everyone in the Barrel and hanging anyone they could prove had a criminal record and a fair portion of those they couldn’t.

Fortunately for the denizens of the Barrel, the sort of focused force that would be necessary to march through the Barrel arresting everything that moved was impossible when half the  _ stadwatch _ took bribes from the gangs. The Merchant Council knew that, but their preaching about morality didn’t do much when the average  _ stadwatch _ grunt didn’t make enough to support their family. Half the  _ stadwatch _ had a very good reason to want the gangs to remain in power. The Merchant Council responded to this with much complaining, but all they could do was set traps for the inhabitants of the Barrel. These traps tended to be valuable goods left in a poorly defended location with  _ stadwatch _ standing at the ready nearby. Since the command structure of the gangs tended to restrain their members, the unaffiliated poor were the ones who fell for it. The bribed  _ stadwatch _ had no qualms arresting those people.

Of course, at age nine Kaz had no way of knowing he’d walked into a fairly common trap, all he knew was that he was seconds from being arrested. He clutched his plates to his chest and ran, ducking in and out of the legs of the terrified crowd. He was heading for a window which he thought he might be able to squeeze through. His breaths burned in his chest and he felt so weak. Vaguely, he was annoyed with himself. Back in the country he’d been able to run and run and run. Why was he so weak and pathetic now?

A hand grabbed him by the back of the shirt and lifted him off the ground. Kaz kicked and struggled. He lost his grip on the plates and they slipped out from under his shirt and shattered on the dirty floor in a cascade of white and blue.

The  _ stadwatch _ officer carried him out of the building and hurled him into the back of a wagon stuffed to bursting with far too many other people. The door slammed closed behind him, leaving him trapped in the dark with what felt like hundreds of much larger bodies pushing in around him. He curled up in a corner and tried to make himself as small as possible so he didn’t have to touch any of them, but with as many people as there were, his efforts were in vain. He felt like he was back on the Reaper’s Barge surrounded by corpses. He felt like he was back in the harbor, clinging to Jordie’s body to keep from drowning.

Kaz had started to avoid touching people almost as soon as he’d climbed out of the harbor, but this was the first time he’d realized just how bad it was. He couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was going to die.

After what felt like an eternity, the wagon bumped to a stop and the door was hauled open. A  _ stadwatch _ officer grabbed Kaz by the back of his shirt, lifted him out and set him on feet. His legs immediately gave out and he collapsed into a shaking, panicking heap. The  _ stadwatch _ officer kicked him hard enough that he felt his ribs creak. Kaz forced himself upright and stumbled along with the other people.

They were herded into the coach house of the  _ stadwatch _ headquarters. Tables were set up with  _ stadwatch _ office workers sitting at them with stacks of paper. Officially, they were checking everyone for previous records so they could determine who to send to Hellgate and who to let free. Unofficially, the papers were Hellgate prison records and everyone was being funnelled out of the coach house and onto boats bound for the prison.

Kaz was a bit calmer by the time he reached the front of the line, in that he could at least breathe and wasn’t visibly shaking anymore. The man sitting at the desk looked at him over the top of his spectacles and snorted with derision. “Bit young to be a criminal, aren’t you?” he asked.

“No,” Kaz replied. He was far from the youngest street child in the Barrel, and he had not yet begun to think of himself as a criminal.

“I suppose your degenerate parents probably had you stealing from the cradle,” the man snorted, scribbling something across the paper in front of him.

Kaz’s blood boiled, the unburied ghost of Kaz Rietveld rising his rage at the insult to his parents. “My parents were good people,” he said. “And they’re dead. I’m an orphan.” It was the first time he’d admitted it aloud; it was like a punch to the gut.

The man didn’t even seem to hear. “That’s an interesting accent,” he said. “Southern, isn’t it?”

_ Stupid _ . “No,” Kaz said, stubbornly, trying to sound like a Ketterdam native and probably failing.

The man shrugged and made another notation on the paper. “What’s your name?”

“Kaz.”

“Kaz what?”

_ Rietveld _ . Kaz almost said but stopped himself at the last instant. Rietveld was the surname of a boy who had drowned in the harbor, a ghost. This new Kaz who got arrested for stealing and tried to hide his accent could not go by Kaz Rietveld. He grasped for another name to give.

When Kaz didn’t immediately respond, the man smiled like he wasn’t surprised. Kaz looked over his shoulder and saw a large piece of machinery against the wall. He didn’t recognize what it was, but he did recognize the blue-and-red logo on the side. His family had once owned farm machinery bearing that logo. He knew the company.

“Brekker,” he said. “My name is Kaz Brekker.”

The man looked over his shoulder at the piece of machinery and snorted. “To each their own, I guess,” he said and scrawled the name onto the piece of paper.

There were more questions after that. Kaz didn’t answer some--like the ones about his family and birthplace--and couldn’t answer others--he had no address--but he answered others--like his birthdate--truthfully, something he would regret in later years given that this document would become the basis of the official record the  _ stadwatch _ kept on him.

When the paper was all filled out the man motioned for a  _ stadwatch _ officer. “Come on, kid,” the officer said, visibly trying not to touch Kaz who was barefoot, filthy and still wearing the same disgusting clothes he’d crawled out of the harbor in. When Kaz didn’t immediately move he overcame his revulsion and grabbed Kaz roughly by the shoulder. “Move!”

It was the exact wrong thing to do. His touch was like the touch of a corpse. Kaz’s heart leaped and he struggled, but the officer held on tight. “Let go of me!” Kaz screamed so loudly that people turned to look at him.

The  _ stadwatch _ officer made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. “Cut it out,” he said. “There’s no one here who cares if you have a temper tantrum.”

Kaz struggled, clawing feebly at the hand holding him. He couldn’t handle it. He wanted it gone. He never wanted anyone to touch him ever again. He wanted to forget that the night in the harbor had ever happened.

His powers--dormant for months--stirred inside him and lashed out in response to his panic. The  _ stadwatch _ officer staggered and released his hold on Kaz’s shoulder. Kaz was so panicked and shocked that it took him a moment to think to run. Then his fight-or-flight response kicked in and he ran for his life. He ducked under the arms of  _ stadwatch _ officers and between the legs of the others who had been arrested and flew out of the coach house and into the well-lit streets outside the  _ stadwatch _ headquarters. He made for the nearest alley and ran flat out towards the Barrel and safety.

He didn’t stop running until he was well within the dark, close, dingy streets of the Barrel. Only then did he feel safe enough to stop and take stock. He was panting for breath, but still felt stronger and more awake than he had in months. He realized his ribs didn’t hurt, and when he checked under his shirt he found there were no bruises from where the  _ stadwatch _ officer had kicked him. Likewise, his feet were stained with blood but there were no wounds. He’d healed himself as he ran.

At first he was confused by why he felt so energized all of a sudden, but then he remembered how he’d always been told that Grisha were much healthier than normal people. He’d assumed that was a lie, but perhaps there was something to it after all. He hoped that was true; he liked this explanation for what had been happening recently than saying that the harbor had broken something in his head. He liked this explanation much, much better.

So obviously something needed to change.

~~~~

In the aftermath of his escape from the  _ stadwatch  _ Kaz did a lot of thinking. If his track record on being unable to use his powers when they mattered most was accurate, he would have expected to have been unable to save himself using them. For some reason he had. He considered it over and over for the next few days. If he was cursed to never be able to use his powers when he needed them why had he been able to use them to save himself?

Eventually he came to the conclusion that the difference must be in the order. What he’d done to escape the  _ stadwatch _ had been an attack, it had been Heartrending and it had worked fine. Maybe he was just cursed to be unable to heal when he most needed it, but he could Heartrend all he wanted.

It was a horrible trade-off, one he was pretty sure he didn’t like. While Jordie had thought about the possibility that Kaz might go to Ravka and choose to be trained as a Heartrender, Kaz never had. Kaz had never liked the idea of using his powers to become a soldier and he didn’t like the idea any more now that Kaz Rietveld was dead.

However, after much thought, he decided that had to be what happened. If he couldn’t heal without things going wrong there was no point in keeping on trying. Besides, he was alive to get revenge on Jakob Hertzoon, and being able to use his powers as a Heartrender did would only make that easier to achieve.

Once he made this decision he had to plan. His attack on the  _ stadwatch _ guard had been instinctive. He couldn’t be sure he’d be able to consciously do it again if he got in a similar situation and he couldn’t allow that to happen. Therefore, he needed training.

The problem with that lay in figuring out how to find that training. Revealing himself as Grisha in the Barrel was a horrible idea which would only end up with him being indentured to one of the gangs or to a merch, which would not help his quest for revenge at all. He needed to find a way to practice and improve without anyone realizing he was Grisha.

There were a lot of Grisha in the city who were indentured and used for their powers. A lot of these Grisha were well known, especially in the Barrel. The gambling den Kaz worked at had one such Grisha among its regulars. This Grisha--the ancient Heartrender Loman--was actually doing better than many Grisha were because his indenture belonged to a small gang that didn’t really care what he did so long as he killed any pick-pockets who ventured into the tumbled down house they called a headquarters every once and awhile. Loman made some money on the side by performing petty acts of vengeance for anyone who paid him a couple  _ kruge _ . Every night when he finished his work for the day, he came to the gambling den--the den Kaz worked at wasn’t even notable enough to have a name--and got fabulously drunk, which in turn made him unusually talkative. It was perfect.

Strictly speaking, Kaz was not supposed to be in the main room of the gambling den. Having children present changed the atmosphere of your establishment even if the child in question was as filthy and generally disreputable as Kaz was. Fortunately, Wout Slootmaeker--the owner of the den--drank almost as much as Loman did and didn’t remember Kaz’s name most of the time, let alone that he was supposed to be keeping the pisspot kid out of sight of the gamblers. As a result, Kaz had long since learned that as long as he was quiet, he could sit and watch the card games be played and money change hands. It was no great leap from doing that to interacting with one of the drunks.

“Hello,” Kaz told Loman, pulling a chair up next to the Heartrender as he lost spectacularly at yet another game of cards.

Loman blinked blearily at him. He was drunk as a skunk. He’d answer all Kaz’s questions and not remember it in the morning. “You’re just a kid,” he slurred. “Aren’t you a little young to be here?”

“I work here,” Kaz said.

“As a dealer?” Loman visibly couldn’t imagine it.

“Not yet,” Kaz said. He didn’t often let himself think about the future beyond revenge on Jakob Hertzoon, but he did dream about graduating out of his role emptying pisspots and becoming a dealer in the den itself. He’d been watching the games for months and, though he’d never played most of the games, he knew all the rules. He knew how to win and he knew that if he was allowed to deal he’d be able to control the game better than any of the dealers in this den could. He just had to find a way to convince Slootmaeker to let a kid give it a shot.

Kaz watched Loman try to figure out what to think of him. Finally he shrugged and took a long swig from his drink. “Whattya want?”

“You’re a Heartrender, right?” Kaz asked. He’d decided that playing dumb was the best strategy.

“Yeah,” Loman narrowed his eyes at him. “Doesn’t matter who you want revenge on, kid; you can’t afford me.”

“I can get my own revenge,” Kaz said so coldly Loman visibly startled. Kaz consciously forced his expression to relax and his tone to return to that of a curious child. “I just had some questions. I’ve never met a Grisha before.”

“Oh,” Loman relaxed too. “What kinda questions?”

“Just some stuff I’d heard around,” Kaz said casually. He’d planned this part in length. It would not do to seem too knowledgeable about Grisha, especially not right away. Kaz knew most of the urban legends and rumors about Grisha weren’t real, but most people didn’t. He had to play to what Loman would expect. “Is it true that Heartrenders can accidently kill someone when they sneeze?”


	11. After 5

At least on the surface, the plan Kaz had concocted to rescue Inej was working. The trade had been made. Alys was back with her husband and Inej was back with them, but Kaz was still tense. He didn’t really believe that Van Eck would not try to double-cross them, and he’d planned for every possibility. He would not be caught by surprise the way he had on Vellgeluk. This time it was going to work.

Still, it was good to have Inej back, even if they were most likely going to have to fight their way out of this. “Your knives?” he asked quietly as she reached him.

“They’re packed inside my coat,” she stood very still as he cut the knot securing the hood and pulled it over her head. Her face was tense, lips pressed tightly together in worry. “Kaz-”

He scanned her, trying to figure out what had put that expression on her face. She didn’t look hurt and didn’t feel hurt either, but he wouldn’t be able to tell for sure without touching her and he wasn’t going to do something that intimate in full view of West Stave. “We’re getting out of here,” he told her.

“Kaz,” she repeated. “He knows.”

The amount of time it took Kaz to realize what she meant was all Van Eck needed to start yelling and demanding to know what had happened to Wylan.

“Kaz,” Inej said, her jaw tight and her eyes steely like they were before a fight. “We need to get out of here. He’s going to-”

She didn’t get the chance to finish because Van Eck was speaking again. Actually, he was shouting at the top of his lungs. He wanted all of West Stave to hear what he was going to say. “Shall we play for real now, Mister Brekker? The might of my city against your band of thugs?” he paused significantly, for obvious dramatic affect. “Or will any of those your followers stay loyal once they realize you’re a Heartrender? Everyone knows Heartrenders can control the weak-minded. How does anyone know they are not being influenced to do exactly what you tell them?”

The West Stave didn’t go silent--that would probably have been impossible--but a sudden hush fell nevertheless. Most of the approaching  _ stadwatch _ stopped running. People had definitely heard. The rumor would be all over the Barrel by nightfall, fueled by the false scare story, and by morning everyone would have heard. His secret was at an end. Even if he hadn’t actually been Grisha he would never be able to live this down; no one would ever forget this.

The only upside in the whole situation was that Kaz had known that Van Eck knew and therefore had had time to brace himself for this possibility. He wasn’t sure how much good that would do in the long run, but at least he could keep from panicking right now. “I see what you mean,” he said to Inej his voice sounding far away. Perhaps he wasn’t as calm as he’d thought, but now was not the time to worry about that. He shoved on her shoulder to get her to turn around. “Let’s get out of here.”

By the time he got Inej’s wrists and ankles free, the  _ stadwatch _ had overcome their shock and were attacking again. Kaz pointed Inej in the right direction and they dropped down onto a boat where they donned Mister Crimson costumes in a swirl of wild geranium petals before heading back up onto the bridge.

There were far fewer Mister Crimsons on the bridge than had originally been planned. Obviously, more than half of them had been scared off by Van Eck’s “Kaz Brekker is an evil Grisha controlling your mind” speech. Not good. There were still quite a few of them, but not enough to cause the kind of crush Kaz had been counting on. The  _ stadwatch _ could easily deal with these kind of numbers. The plan had failed. Kaz should have spent some of the time he spent bracing himself to be revealed trying to figure out what might happen to the plan if he was.

Then the West Stave was rocked by a massive explosion. Kaz stumbled and looked up to see a massive pillar of smoke rising from the front of the House of the White Rose. His first thought was that that explosion had just saved all their asses. His second was that Wylan was better at demo than this. His third was that obviously there was a third party at work here.

That didn’t make him feel better.

“What happened there?” Inej asked, pushing up her Mister Crimson mask to get a better look.

Kaz slammed her mask back down, they couldn’t risk revealing themselves now, especially with the few remaining Mister Crimsons quickly beginning to flee. “No idea,” he said. “My plan went to shit five minutes ago. We need to leave before the  _ stadwatch _ regroups and arrests us.”

Inej’s head turned in the direction of the White Rose and Kaz knew she was looking at the wounded streaming out into the street. Kaz deliberately didn’t let himself look. “Let’s go,” he said.

“Alright,” Inej nodded and they sprinted for the safety of the alleys.

~~~~

Over the years Kaz had assembled an impressive collection of safehouses where he could wait out any trouble. Black Veil was the only one which was out of the way enough for a large group of very high profile fugitives to hide for a long time without their comings and goings being noticed, but given that he and Inej only needed someplace to hide out until the insanity in West Stave died down, he figured the one in the Weft was safe enough.

Neither of them spoke until they were safely hidden away amongst the many bolts of fabric. Kaz dug a small container of emergency rations out of the place he’d hidden them when he had first set up this place and handed them over to Inej. He sat across the room from her and watched while she wolfed down the measly selection of crackers. Obviously, Van Eck hadn’t been much for feeding his prisoners.

“Are you hurt?” he asked when she was nearly finished. He chose not to ask if Van Eck had hurt her because he likely had even if the damage hadn’t been physical.

“I’m fine,” she said.

Silence again. Inej finished the crackers and straightened up, brushing a few stray crumbs off of her lap. “You knew that he knew you were Grisha,” she said. “Knowing that, why did you come to do the trade yourself? You could have sent Matthias or Jesper or Nina. How did you know Van Eck hadn’t agreed to your trade just to capture you?”

Kaz hadn’t even considered the possibility that Van Eck might do anything but reveal his secret to the whole Barrel. What good would capturing Kaz do for Van Eck when he already knew Kaz wouldn’t obey? It simply would be a waste of effort.

“It was fine,” Kaz said. “I had it mostly handled. I just didn’t expect him to pull out the good old ‘Heartrenders can control your mind’ bogus.”

Inej frowned, though Kaz couldn’t tell what was worrying her so much. She took a sip of water, obviously considering what to say next. “And what happened to the  _ parem _ which Nina, Matthias and Kuwei took from the Ice Court?” she asked. “Did someone finally dump it into a canal?”

“Matthias gave it to me,” Kaz admitted. “He was afraid Nina was going to go digging through his stuff looking for it.”

A look of horror crossed Inej’s face. “He gave it to  _ you _ ? What was he thinking? You’re Grisha! That’s the same thing as giving it to Jesper!”

“Apparently I’m too self-serving to take it regardless of how bad things get,” Kaz said. He meant to just state a fact, but the words came out a little bitter.

Inej stared at him, her jaw slack. Her obvious horror made Kaz uncomfortable, only years of practice kept him from shifting awkwardly.

“Matthias doesn’t know you at all,” Inej finally said, her chin jutting out, horror quickly turning into anger.

“And you do?” Kaz asked. It was a cruel thing to say, but he didn’t want to continue this conversation.

“Don’t try to pull that,” Inej said. “You have that stuff hidden away in one of those trick pockets of yours right now, not to keep Nina from getting at it but because if something had gone really wrong today and that was the only way to escape you would have taken it without thought.”

She wasn’t wrong. “Wraith-”

“Deny it,” Inej demanded, her chin lifting.

Kaz could not and he knew that she’d see through him if he tried, so he said nothing.

“You know how I knew Van Eck knew you were Grisha?” Inej asked, leaning forward. Kaz lost the battle to keep from shifting. “I knew because Van Eck taunted me about it,” she hissed. “He told me that he was going to break my legs, shatter them beyond repair, and then laugh when you refused to heal them and abandoned me. He told me that he’d come back for me afterwards and lock me up somewhere while he captured you. He said he was going to get you addicted to  _ parem _ . He said he would make sure I lived long enough to see you beg for another dose.”

There was no way for him to respond to that.

Inej held out her hand, palm up. “Give me the  _ parem _ , Kaz,” she said. “You shouldn’t have it.”

“I can hold onto it just fine,” Kaz said. “I’m not going to use it.”

“I don’t want you to have it,” Inej said. “There’s already enough danger of it from Van Eck; I don’t want to have to live with the fear that you’re going to dose yourself too.”

“We might need it,” he protested, aware of how pathetic that sounded.

“We don’t need anything that much,” Inej said. “Look what happened to Nina; that price wasn’t worth our escape, and nothing you use it on would be worth it, either.”

Kaz just looked at her for a moment. She offered her hand a bit more forcefully. “Please, Kaz. I’ll just hang on to it for you.”

He didn’t want to hand it over, but he also knew that when Inej got like this nothing could change her mind. With a sigh, he fished the little pouch--still half full of orange powder after Nina’s sacrifice back in Fjerda--and leaned forward so he could reach across the gap between them and drop it into her outstretched hand. Her fingers curled around it and she released a breath. “Thank you, Kaz.”

Kaz sat back and propped his bad leg up on a lower stack of fabric bolts. “Don’t bother thanking me,” but deep down inside, it was a relief not to be hanging on to the  _ parem _ anymore.


	12. Before 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, Minor Character Death

Realizing Jakob Hertzoon was actually Pekka Rollins changed everything about Kaz’s plans. When he’d thought Jakob Hertzoon was just a small-time con artist he hadn’t needed any backup to deal with him. Realizing the man he needed revenge on was rapidly becoming the most powerful gang leader in Ketterdam was different. Kaz couldn’t destroy Pekka Rollins’s life alone; he would need backup

That was where the Dregs came in.

Kaz had finally convinced Slootmaeker to let him try to deal just before he turned eleven. When it turned out he was actually as good as he claimed to be, the gambling den quickly became marginally famous in the most disreputable parts of the Barrel. The story was that there was a kid there who played cards like professional. Slootmaeker saw the monetary benefit in this and quickly began advertising a huge cash prize for the person who could beat Kaz. Kaz would have prefered to keep dealing, but Slootmaeker offered him a cut large enough to allow him to rent a bed in a boarding house so he agreed.

Kaz never lost, and he made Slootmaeker a lot of money, until at age twelve he went and joined the Dregs.

The Dregs recruited children, but mostly as pickpockets who gave Per Haskell a cut of their spoils in exchange for a place to sleep. However Kaz’s minor notability as a card prodigy was what got him a place in the Dregs’s sole gambling den. It was a marginally nicer place than Slootmaeker’s den, but only just. Per Haskell even let Kaz deal, unlike Slootmaeker. Haskell was well aware of how useful it was to have a dealer who could control who won the game.

It was an interesting change. For the first time since age nine, Kaz had a regular, substantial salary and a room to himself. That especially was a relief after a year of living in a common house where there was always the possibility of someone brushing up against you, or deciding their bunk was too far and that they should just collapse onto yours.

In addition to dealing cards, there were other tasks now. Kaz had learned to pick pockets and break and enter while on the streets, but now he had the time to learn to pick locks and perform more elaborate thefts and cons. The Dregs were far from professionals in this sort of thing, but Kaz knew that if he was going to get his revenge on Pekka Rollins they would need to be. He couldn’t get them there if he didn’t know that stuff himself.

Things were going as close to well as they had in years. Kaz still needed to figure out how to take over a gang where the vast majority of the members were older than he was, but he was actually fairly optimistic about the whole thing. Jordie was going to be avenged; Kaz was confident of it.

But of course, that was just too optimistic. One night, a few months after he’d joined the Dregs, Kaz was leaving the gambling den after a shift. The rest of the dealers from his shift were going out to the bars to drink their earnings away. Kaz wasn’t going along because he had no desire to form connections with these people. He would be their leader one day, but that did not mean he needed to be their friend. Besides, whether or not the bartenders would serve him was hit or miss. Ketterdam’s drinking age was fifteen, and years of malnutrition and hard living meant Kaz looked even younger than he was. Had the Dregs been a more powerful gang it might have been different, but as it was he didn’t want to deal with the fuss.

He was alone as he made his way back to the Slat. The air was nippy with the first chills of fall and Kaz was looking forward to having his own room and stove to wait out the winter in--even if the Slat had little to no insulation. He took the same shortcut down a dark alley that he always did on his way back. He was thinking about spending the night working on the heist he was planning and he forgot the number one rule of life in the Barrel:

Never let your guard down: you are never safe.

He was in the deepest shadow of the alley when something moved in the darkness. Kaz barely had time to realize what was happening before someone slammed into him and hurled him across the alley. Kaz hit the wall on the other side of the alley hard, and felt his ribs crack. He collapsed to the cobblestones, gasping. Every breath hurt, but he would be fine. He’d heal; he just needed to get out of here.

Someone strode across the alley and a bare hand closed around his neck, lifting him up and slamming him against the wall again. Kaz felt harbor water rise up around his ankles and lashed out at his attacker, kicking and scratching. Whoever it was slammed their shoulder into Kaz’s chest, holding him still. Kaz smelled an overpowering stench of alcohol and body odor and nearly gagged. He tried not to think about the Reaper’s Barge. He tried not to think about the Reaper’s Barge. He tried not to--

“You’ve ruined me, boy,” a hoarse and hideously familiar voice rasped in Kaz’s ear. Kaz could smell alcohol heavy on his breath. “Did you know that?”

That broke through Kaz’s rising panic. It was Slootmaeker. 

“We were making money hand over fist with your little show,” the man went on. “It was comfortable. Then you up and betrayed us!” He used the hand holding Kaz’s neck to grind the back of his head against the brick wall.

“Let go of me,” Kaz said. He wished he sounded more authoritative, but he just sounded like a scared kid.

“You  _ ruined  _ me!” Slootmaeker repeated. “I had debts, did you know that? People gave me credit because they knew I was making good money with your little card scam. Now that you’ve left me I have nothing to repay them with! They’re going to come after me, you hear? And it’s all your fault!”

Kaz hadn’t known about the debts, but in later years when he looked back on it, he wasn’t surprised. Men like Slootmaeker were always in debt to someone and they were also the kind of men who got violent when they thought they were done in.

At age twelve, however, Kaz was too busy trying not to panic to do anything else. The water was all around him, drowning him. Slootmaeker’s hands felt like the hands of a corpse. He could feel Jordie’s ghost drawing closer. He couldn’t breathe. “Please, let go of me,” he begged. It was pathetic.

Slootmaeker laughed, low and caustic. “Yeah, sure, I’ll let you go, but that dirty worm Haskell isn’t going to get one cent more from you, in fact no one else is going to ever again.” he reached into his coat with his free hand and pulled something out. He pressed a button and Kaz heard a switchblade open.

Another thing Kaz would contemplate after the fact, was that what Slootmaeker had come to do that night was ridiculously risky. Sure Kaz was a twelve-year-old orphan and no one in Ketterdam really cared what happened to boys like him, but he also had a Dregs tattoo on his arm and a job in Per Haskell’s gambling den. He had value to the gang, even if at that point he’d never been able to tell if Haskell remembered his name. If Slootmaeker had killed Kaz and Per Haskell had figured out who had done it, he would have viewed it as an attack on the authority of the Dregs. This was especially true because while Slootmaeker’s gambling den was on Dregs territory he wasn’t under the protection of the Dregs or any other gang. If Slootmaeker killed Kaz, he’d be dead, but he was too drunk, stupid and enraged to realize that.

That would not, however, have meant anything to Kaz, who would be dead anyway. When Slootmaeker pulled out the switchblade Kaz struggled and kicked and bit and fought, trying to get free both from the imminent death and the physical contact. Slootmaeker held on, growling at Kaz to stop moving, like he thought Kaz would sit quietly and let himself be murdered.

Later, Kaz wasn’t sure to what extent he consciously decided to do what he did next, but he knew it had not been subconscious the way some of the other things he had done over the years had been. He twisted one hand free and lifted it, fingers pressed together. He bent his hand back and struck.

Slootmaeker was dead in the space of a heartbeat. He sagged forward, his weight crushing Kaz against the wall. Kaz shoved and kicked at the body until Slootmaeker toppled and collapsed in a heap on the cobblestones. Kaz leaped away, shaking with full-body tremors. He’d never killed with his powers before--not even animals--but he’d learned how to do it from the various Grisha he’d been talking to. He’d figured he could do it if he needed to, and now he’d proven that he had been right.

Kaz stared down at Slootmaeker’s body, jaw slack. It was too dark in the alley to see more than an outline, but he’d seen enough corpses to imagine Slootmaeker’s slack face and staring eyes.

What had he done? The thought hit him with the force of a bullet. Had he really just used his powers to kill someone? What would his parents think? For the first time in a long time he let himself remember them, how proud they’d been that he’d been Grisha and that he’d be a Healer. They’d never outright said it, but Kaz knew that they had also been relieved he’d been a Healer; they would have loved him either way, but they did not want him to be a Heartrender. And now he’d gone and done just that. He’d just killed someone with the very powers they had been so proud of. They would be horrified.

Kaz doubled over and vomited on the cobblestones and the toes of his boots. Disgust raged through him. He had figured he would kill when he started out on this quest for revenge--he fully intended to kill Pekka Rollins someday after all--but whenever he’d thought about it he’d always thought of doing it with a gun or a knife. Even while he learned the theory behind killing someone with Corporalki powers, he’d never imagined he’d ever do it.The mere idea of using his powers to kill had been abstract until it wasn’t.

He needed to get away. He turned on trembling legs and burst into a sprint. He pounded down the alley and out onto a well lit street. He didn’t want to go back to Slat and be surrounded by the other Dregs, but there was no other safe place for him to be. At least he had a room with a door that he could close now.

His ears were ringing, and that hadn’t gotten better by the time he reached the Slat. He wasn’t sure if anyone noticed his arrival, but if someone did no one commented on his dirty, disheveled, panicked appearance. He climbed the steps to his tiny room without looking at anyone. Once he was safely barricaded in his room with the door locked behind him, he slid down to the floor and curled into a ball, still shaking.

It wasn’t until he woke up stiff and sore on the cold floor the next morning that he realized his ribs hadn’t healed themselves. Normally his injuries healed without him even making an effort, but this time they were just as they had been when he’d first received them. He prodded at his lower chest, wincing. He was annoyed his healing had failed him yet again, but wasn’t necessarily surprised. It appeared all his powers were good for was committing murders. 

His healing abilities didn’t kick back in and his ribs healed slowly and naturally.

Kaz never mentioned what had happened that night to anyone.


	13. After 6

Objectively, the auction scheme was absolutely insane.

Kaz had managed a lot of crazy things in his day, but this plan was on another level entirely. Kaz firmly believed it was going to work--it had to work--but it wouldn’t go smoothly.

He was just running through the plan again in preparation for introducing it to the crew and speculating on the chances that he could still manage to wrestle control of the Dregs away from Haskell as a known Grisha when someone knocked tentatively on the door.

“What business?” Kaz called.

“It’s me,” Wylan called. There was something off about his voice. Like he’d been crying.

Kaz heaved himself to his feet, crossed to the door and swung it open. Wylan was standing outside it and it appeared he had indeed been crying. “What’s gone wrong now?” Kaz asked, fully aware of how short he was being. He didn’t have the time or energy to waste solving anymore crises.

Wylan started. He really did look miserable and Kaz felt a little bad for being so snappish, though of course he’d never admit to it. “Nothing’s gone wrong,” he said, though that obviously wasn’t true. “I just wanted to ask you for a favor.”

Kaz wanted to tell Wylan that there were more important things going on, but the merchling looked pretty upset. “Fine, come in and make it fast” Kaz sighed dramatically. Even if he was worried about whatever was going on, it wouldn’t do to show it.

Wylan slid past Kaz into the room, squinting against the low light because Kaz had all the curtains closed and hadn’t bothered to light a lamp. Kaz pointed him towards one of the chairs by a small table and Wylan sat in it. After a moment, Kaz went and lit a lamp. He doubted Wylan was the type who did his best thinking in the dark.

When the lamp was lit, Kaz sat down across from Wylan and studied him. “So if nothing’s wrong, what’s the favor and why do you look like someone just killed your puppy?”

Wylan opened and closed his mouth a couple times, then said in such a rush Kaz had a hard time understanding him, “Can you Tailor me so I look like myself again?”

“I thought you didn’t have a problem with looking like Kuwei?” Kaz asked.

Wylan’s chin jutted up. “Well I do,” he said.

“You knew it was likely this would be a permanent change, Wylan,” Kaz said. “We don’t know the boundaries of Nina’s abilities while on  _ parem _ .”

Wylan huffed. “If you need me to still look like Kuwei for the rest of the plan, just say that, Kaz,” he said. “I can stick it out if its necessary for the plan, but if it’s not I want to look like me again.”

“What brought this on?” Kaz asked. “You didn’t seem to be having this problem yesterday.”

“Are you going to do it or not, Kaz?” Wylan snapped. “Stop beating around the bush and just tell me!”

“I can’t,” Kaz said through gritted teeth. “I’m not a Tailor.”

“That’s a lame excuse,” Wylan replied. “Nina’s not a Tailor either but she still was able to Tailor Matthias before we got to the Ice Court. You’re a Corporalnik, so you should be able to do that too.”

“Nina might not be a Tailor, but she still has had some formal training in it,” Kaz said. His hands were clenched into fists on his lap; he hated admitting weakness. “I don’t. I don’t have the faintest clue how Tailoring works, Wylan. I quite literally can’t undo what Nina did.”

Wylan looked a bit like a fish out of water. It was obvious that while he’d planned for Kaz to argue with him, he’d never considered that Kaz might actually be incapable of doing what he asked. “But-But you know how to do all that other stuff,” he gestured vaguely.

“Everything I know about my powers I picked up by stealing secrets from the other Corporalki of Ketterdam,” Kaz said. “The idea that Tailoring is a legitimate use of Corporalki abilities that any Corporalnik can learn is revolutionary even in Ravka. What makes you think there’s a Tailor floating around the Barrel of all places?”

Wylan blushed and ducked his head. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“That much is obvious,” Kaz leaned back in his chair. “Are you going to tell me what all this is about, now?”

“It’s nothing,” Wylan muttered to his hands. “It doesn’t matter.”

“That was not the impression I got from this conversation.”

Wylan lifted his head again. “If you can’t put me back then it  _ can’t  _ matter,” he said with surprising courage. “I’ll just have to get used to it.” Then his face fell. “Still...do you think Nina will ever get her old powers back?”

Kaz looked at the kid and was surprised by how sorry he felt. Not just that he couldn’t help him, but with how snappish he’d been. He silently reassessed his estimates of just how sleep deprived and cranky he was. 

“Do you want me to reassure you or tell you the truth?” Kaz asked.

“The truth,” Wylan said. “I’m not a child. I don’t need to be protected.”

At the beginning of this affair, Kaz might have laughed at that--the little merchling naive enough to think he could handle the horrors of the world--but he didn’t laugh now. Wylan had proven himself as a member of this crew, and he’d proven that he didn’t need to be protected.

“If you want my considered opinion, then no I don’t think Nina’s old powers are coming back,” Kaz said. The words felt like stones on his tongue. “I can’t say for certain, because I’m not an amplifier, but something about her has felt different since she took the  _ parem _ and its not bouncing back to the way it used to be.”

Wylan’s eyes filled with tears again, but he forced them back. “So then there’s no hope.”

“Not necessarily,” Kaz said. “If this job turns out, you’ll be a multi-millionaire. You could hire a whole army of Tailors to put you back to the way you were. Plus,” he paused for a second considering whether or not to reveal the information, “Plus if this plan is going to work we’re probably going to have to make contact with the Ravkans. There’s a rumor Genya Safin is in the city.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” Wylan murmured.

“I’m not lying,” Kaz said, but that was a little too open so he pushed on. “Do you have any other concerns? If not, I have to get back to working out the details of this plan.”

“Are we really going to win?” Wylan asked. “Is it really going to work out?”

Kaz wasn’t much for doling out reassurance, but he’d also been a leader long enough to know when you needed to do some reassuring before the morale of your crew crumbled around you. “Of course we’re going to win, Merchling,” he said. “There isn’t a person in this city who could take the likes of us.”

~~~~

Kaz may have projected a bit more confidence in their eventual victory to Wylan than he privately felt, but no one needed to know that. After the merchling had gone on his way, Kaz had been unusually keyed up and found it difficult to go back to his planning, even after dousing the lamp so he was sitting in darkness. His leg was doing too badly to pace, so he made his slow, painful way to the front room, where he found a half finished pot of coffee. Even though it was mostly cold, he drank a couple cups which calmed him enough to think, in addition to easing the headache which had been plaguing him since the ill-fated Sweet Reef plot and pushing off the eventuality of sleep a little longer.

He was just finishing his second cup when Nina came in, took one look at him and raised an eyebrow. Kaz had no desire to listen to her explaining why cold coffee was not something meant for drinking, so he cleared the room. He mostly had the plot figured out by now, anyway, which meant it was time to set things in motion. He went looking for Kuwei.

He found the kid up in the belltower where the crew had seen the deputized gangs on parade. Kuwei was sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest. He didn’t look like he’d been crying, but he definitely didn’t look happy.

“What’s up with you?” Kaz asked moving to stand over him. He thought about sitting down to put himself more on Kuwei’s level, but if he sat down on the floor now, he wasn’t convinced he’d be able to get back up.

Kuwei glanced up at him and then looked away. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s stupid.”

This whole crew was falling to pieces. First his and Jesper’s fight, then Wylan, now Kuwei. Who was next? Kaz hoped it was Matthias or Nina. He didn’t think he could handle seeing Inej fall to pieces.

“Is it something I need to know about?” Kaz asked.

“No,” Kuwei said. “Like I said. It’s just stupid.” He swiped at his eyes.

“Fine,” Kaz said. His tolerance of any emotions, let alone anyone else’s was just about spent. “If you say its stupid, I’m going to trust you and not push. I came up here to run something by you. I have a plan, but it’s going to require you to take on a role involving quite a bit a danger. Do you want to hear it?”

Kuwei took a deep breath, finished wiping his eyes and nodded. “Go ahead.”

Kaz laid out the auction scheme as quickly and concisely as possible, being sure to get across exactly what would be expected of Kuwei and exactly what the dangers were. When he finished, he waited for the other boy to say something.

Kuwei didn’t say anything for a while. Kaz watched him turned the plot over and over in his mind. Finally he took a deep breath. “This is your only plan, isn’t it?” he asked.

“It is,” Kaz admitted. He wouldn’t have normally been so honest but he was asking Kuwei to take a primary role in a plan which carried a high possibility of death for all involved; he owed the kid some honesty.

“Then I’ll do it,” Kuwei said. “You all risked your lives to get me out of the Ice Court. It’s only fair that return the favor.”

“Good, kid,” Kaz said.

“I’m not that much younger than you are,” Kuwei said. “Just for the record.”

Objectively, Kaz knew there was only a year or two between him and Kuwei, but there was no way to explain how much older Kaz felt than most of the people his own age. He felt ancient; he had since he was nine years old.

When Kaz didn’t respond, Kuwei went back to staring out at the city. Kaz was just starting to contemplate making the slow and painful descent back into the suite and gathering the others to tell them about the plan when Kuwei cleared his throat.

“What?” Kaz asked.

“Jesper kissed me,” Kuwei said in a rush.

That...was unexpected. “Okay...” Kaz said.

“He...” Kuwei pursed his lips and fidgeted a little. “He may have been under the impression I was Wylan.”

That made a bit more sense, but Kaz still wasn’t sure how it had happened. Had his fight with Jesper and the subsequent confrontation with his father really rattled Jes enough that he hadn’t been able to tell Wylan and Kuwei apart?

“I knew he thought I was Wylan,” Kuwei said, he wasn’t looking at the city now, he was staring at his knees. He looked ashamed. “I knew and I didn’t try to stop him.” He bit his lip. “I wanted to kiss him and I knew he’d never want to kiss me so I settled for the next best thing. Only Wylan saw and he was angry.”

Well, that explained what was going on with Wylan. Kaz wondered if he was going to have to deal with the emotional fallout of this fiasco with Jesper as well today.

“I don’t…” Kuwei cut himself off. “I thought he would know that Jesper mustn’t have known it was me. I thought Wylan knew Jesper likes him.” He looked up at Kaz for the first time since he’d started talking about Jesper. “What should I do?”

There weren’t even words for how far over his emotional quota Kaz was. “Do I look like the person to go to for romantic advice?” he asked, trying not to sound too dismissive. This was obviously a delicate situation and he needed the crew functioning if this scheme was going to work. “If you want to know what to do, I suggest you ask Nina.”

It was obvious Kuwei was a little disappointed that he’d told Kaz all that for nothing, but he also didn’t look too surprised. Even he had learned enough in the weeks since the Ice Court to start to get a feel for what to expect or not to expect from Kaz Brekker. “Okay,” he said.

“Then get up,” Kaz said. “We need to gather the crew and have a meeting. We have a lot to do.”


	14. Before 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Broken Limbs

Two years after Kaz’s ill-fated final encounter with Wout Slootmaeker, the wind that howled down the streets and alleys of Ketterdam was bitter with cold. It was the sort of cold you did not want to be caught out in; the kind which could freeze your fingers and toes if you went out without the proper protection. There wasn’t much snow--there never was in the smoggy city and it was too cold to snow, anyway--but there was a lot of ice.

Kaz was glad of the Slat, however drafty and leaky it was, because at least it blocked the wind. Plus he had a little stove in his tiny room and knew how to pick the lock on the coal shed of a merch so he had enough fuel to keep it burning even when he slept. Things weren’t amazing--they hadn’t been since he’d been about five--but they were definitely going fairly well. Over the last few years he’d gained a reputation for taking on dangerous jobs with high rates of success. That had given him an escape from the gambling dens and a leap into the organized crime part of the Dregs’ business; the part he would have to dominate if he was going to take over someday. That was looking up too; if things kept on the way they’d been going he’d soon be a lieutenant. Granted, it would be difficult to get the older members of the Dregs to follow a fourteen-year-old, but he would manage it; he would have to if he wanted to be their leader someday.

Kaz shimmed out of the chimney, pushing the bag of _kruge_ along in front of him. He hunched his shoulders as the cold wind raced across the roof of the bank, cutting into his coat like a knife through butter. He blew on to his fingers before stuffing them into his pockets. His gloves were unlined and as thin as he could get them. They were only intended to keep him from having to touch another person’s bare skin while still giving him the dexterity to deal cards or pick locks; they were of no use against the cold.

Teapot--who had been standing against one of the bank’s chimneys--came over. “That’s the last of it?” he asked.

“Where are Seeger and Milo?” Kaz asked looking around the roof.

“Told them to go back,” Teapot said, huffing lazily on a cigarette in a way which made Kaz’s hackles rise. “Milo was cold so I said they could head back. I sent most of the loot with them. What?” he asked at the look on Kaz’s face. “Seeger said you told them you and Beatle could handle the rest. I figured it was fine.”

“I told Seeger I wanted them to come up and help you and Milo stand guard,” Kaz growled. “Now since Seeger and Milo are gone we have too many blind spots. Have you even been standing guard?”

“Course, I have,” Teapot said with a wan grin, though the deterius of cigarette butts surrounding the chimney suggested otherwise.

A bunch of soft bumps and scrapes sounded from behind them as Beatle squeezed himself through the last of the chimney and out onto the roof. He was too big for this job. Kaz had planned it for the small group of kids his own age he’d been convincing Per Haskell to let join up in the last few months. Ideally, the plot would involve small people in their early teens and it would give the new recruits a taste of what being members of the Dregs was really like. Plus, he’d planned to take more than he reported to Haskell which would give him the ability to pay the crew more than their cut to begin cementing their loyalty to him over Haskell. He would need a core group who owed him more than they owed Haskell when he took over, and while he might be able to get the older members to take orders from him, they would likely always stand with Haskell if it came down to it.

Unfortunately, that plan hadn’t come to fruition. Yesterday, Haskell had called Kaz into his office and said that he’d changed his mind and that Teapot, Beatle, Seeger and Milo would accompany Kaz for the robbery. Kaz had tried to argue that the plan was formulated for the skills of the crew he’d originally suggested, but Haskell had rambled on about experience and how since Kaz was so young it would be best if there were some older people backing him up. The old man had never said who’d exactly put that idea into his head, but Kaz knew it was Teapot. Teapot was stupid, but he was also ambitious and just smart enough to realize Kaz was his competition for luitenantship.

Kaz and Teapot watched as Beatle contorted himself out of the chimney. When the last member of the crew was safely out of the bowels of the bank, Kaz looked them over “We’re leaving now,” he said. “Hopefully you did your job thoroughly enough that our escape didn’t get cut off.”

He shouldn’t have said anything, because the instant he did there was the sound of approaching carriages on the cobblestones below, followed by footsteps and shouting. After a minute someone must have found a megaphone because a magnified voice called, “Fugitives, halt! You are under arrest!”

“You idiot!” Kaz snarled to Teapot. “You had one job!” He shoved his bags of _kruge_ at Teapot. “Come on; we’re leaving.”

They raced across the roof and scrambled down a rope from the top of the bank’s main building to the attached offices. This building nearly butted up against an apartment building next door with a gap small enough to jump. Kaz was the last one down the rope because he was the only one who knew how to release the knot tying it to the roof of the bank proper. He pulled the rope free and coiled it, wrapping it around his chest as he dashed towards the gap to the apartment building.

Kaz was running fast and still working to get the rope situated across his chest when he reached the edge of the building. As he prepared to jump, he stepped on a sheet of ice, and his feet slid out from under him and he was falling. He got one glimpse of Beatle’s horrified face before he hit the ground with a sickening crunch.

Pain exploded through his body, radiating from his leg. He gasped and curled into a ball, clutching at the injured appendage. He nearly sobbed from the pain, but bit it back at the last second. _Don’t show weakness_. He would be fine. He just needed to catch his breath for a second then he’d be able to get up and get out of here. He forced his eyes open and blinked away tears. He needed to get out of here. He had to escape.

He tried to move his leg and nearly screamed. Something was wrong, something was really, really wrong.

Panting, he rested both hands on either side of his knee, whimpering in pain and closed his eyes. He’d mostly given up on healing at the age of nine, but he’d still picked some things up while stalking Grisha over the years. He could heal consciously now, which was good for when he got into fights, though he never could heal any visible wounds. Maybe, just maybe, he knew enough to fix this.

When he reached out with his powers, he could feel the scale of the damage. His leg was broken, shattered beyond repair by any non-Grisha doctor. He tried to heal it, tried to coax the bones to grow back together, but the pain distracted him, stealing away his focus. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt so much. He gasped and tried to focus but he couldn’t, he couldn’t do anything but sob.

Vaguely, he was aware that he was still alone in an alley a mere hundred or so yards from the _stadwatch_. Teapot and Beatle had abandoned him, and worse, his powers had abandoned him. He wasn’t even surprised on either count. He needed to get out of here. He couldn’t be arrested, not at a time like this. Not when he’d been so close.

There was no way he would be able to stand, let alone walk, so he dragged himself along the cobblestones, searching for a safe place to hide until the danger had passed. His head swam with pain and his face was wet with tears. He hated that this was his life, crawling broken and alone in the cold. Why did this always end up happening to him? He tried so hard to get somewhere, to escape the tragedy which had nipped at his heals all his life, but it always caught up with him again. Maybe this was the way it was always going to be. Maybe he would always get so close just to find everything snatched away again.

He found a stack of old boxes and other garbage piled against a house and squeezed himself into the crevices in it, biting his tongue to keep from screaming when he bumped his injured leg against anything. When he thought he was adequately hidden from view, he collapsed face down on the dirty, freezing ground and tried to breathe.

The _stadwatch_ didn’t bother searching so close to the bank. They assumed that everyone involved was long since on their way to the Barrel. Kaz lay in his hiding place, getting colder and colder until _stadwatch_ were gone and then everything went silent. Then he hauled himself out of his hiding place and tried to prepare himself for the long journey back to the Slat. He was shivering with cold and probable shock, and his fingers and toes had gone numb. Vaguely, he wondered when he had to start worrying about frostbite. He was lightheaded and kind of wanted to just curl up and sleep, which would be like pounding the nails into his own coffin. The cold would finish him off in hours.

He knew he couldn’t walk, but the idea of dragging himself all the way back to the Slat was so humiliating that he contemplated trying to stand and hop. The thought made him even more tired. He wanted to find someplace warm and safe to sleep, but there was nowhere in this part of town. If he survived this, he needed to get a safehouse in the mercher’s part of town.

He tried to sit up but the pain was too much so he simply pressed his forehead to the ground and tried to catch his breath. He needed to get out of here. He needed to get back to the Slat before he froze and find a way to salvage this. He needed to survive and make Pekka Rollins pay. He needed to find a way to make Teapot and Beatle pay for abandoning him.

Kaz tensed as footsteps sounded on the cobblestones a short ways away. He needed to pull himself back into the cover of the debris, but he was too tired to move. He couldn’t do anything but stay still and hope that he either wouldn’t be noticed or at the very least, whoever it was wasn’t the _stadwatch_.

The footsteps drew level with him and slowed. Someone swore. A girl. “Oh, shit. Keeg, get over here! I found him!”

Whoever it was drew closer and Kaz forced his eyes open to see who it was. It was Anika, one of the new Dregs he’d originally picked for this heist. She was bundled up against the cold, a surprisingly cheerful blue scarf wrapped around her head, covering most of her colorless blonde hair. She knelt down in front of him. “Kaz? Can you hear me?”

More footsteps came running and Keeg, another person who was supposed to have been part of this heist, slid to a stop just behind Anika. “Sweet Ghezen,” he moaned. “Kaz, what happened to you?”

“Fell off the roof,” Kaz wasn’t sure why he was being honest, beyond that there was really no way to hide what had happened.

Anika and Keeg both eyed his injured leg worriedly, for the first time Kaz realized it wasn’t exactly in a normal position. His stomach rolled. “Why are you here?” he asked, swallowing heavily.

“All the others came back but you didn’t,” Anika said. “Teapot wouldn’t say where you were, but he seemed unusually pleased about something so we decided we should make sure nothing had happened to you. Pim and Dirix are looking too.”

“Obviously that was a good idea,” Keeg said. He was trying not to look at Kaz’s leg and was visibly queasy, Kaz would have punched him if he had any strength left.

“We’ll help you back to the Slat,” Anika said. “You need to get out of the cold. Then we’ll get a medik. It’ll be fine.” She didn’t sound particularly convinced.

“Don’t touch me,” Kaz muttered, trying not to think about the harbor.

“You can’t walk,” Anika said. “You have to let us help you.” She held out a hand. “Please, Kaz.”

Unfortunately she was right, Kaz would never even be able to get up off the ground without their help. He was wearing his gloves and layers, he reminded himself. He wouldn’t touch any skin, it would be fine.

“Alright,” he said. “But hurry.”


	15. After 7

By this point the whole of Ketterdam knew Kaz Brekker was Grisha. Kaz wasn’t necessarily surprised and he did his utmost to make that at least seem to mean he wasn’t uncomfortable with it. The crew was one fell swoop from falling apart under the strain and Kaz wasn’t going to let his panic about his biggest secret being exposed be the thing that destroyed everything. Things were still salvageable, it was going to be more difficult, but it was still possible. He just needed to keep focused on what he needed to do.

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about the kind of conversations which must be happening in every pub and pleasure house in the Barrel right now. People would be discussing his newly revealed powers, discussing whether he was a monster or an asset. He needed to move quickly. If he struck now he thought he’d be able to control the city’s opinion of him enough to remain in power at the end, but he had to move quickly, before the shock wore off.

That and the practical need for more troops had him in a bathroom with Inej talking about whether or not Jordie had deserved what he’d gotten, when all Kaz had really wanted was a rooftop route to the Slat that wouldn’t make his leg worse than it already was. Well, that and to tell her he’d paid off her contract. He couldn’t get the look that had been on her face when he’d told her out of his head. He’d spent the entire time he’d known Inej doing his utmost to convince her to expect nothing but the worst from him. The fact that she could accept what even he had to admit was the kindest thing he’d done in at least eight years, without looking for an ulterior motive made him more uncomfortable than he wanted to admit.

“You were children,” Inej told him. “Was there no one to protect you?”

“Was there anyone to protect  _ you _ ?” Kaz shot back. He couldn’t handle this line of questioning. He’d drowned the part of himself which had wished someone bigger would just come and save him in the harbor.

“My father,” Inej said. “My mother. They would have done anything to keep me from being stolen.”

“And they would have been mowed down by slavers.” Perhaps he was a horrible person for saying it, but he said it anyway.

Inej didn’t rise to the bait. She never did and that was, honestly, one of the most frustrating things about her. “Then I guess I was lucky I didn’t have to see that.”

“Sold into a brothel at age fourteen and you count yourself lucky.”

“They loved me,” Inej said. “They love me. I believe that.” She stepped closer to him, looking like she was bracing herself for something, though it was hard to tell what. “You protected me, Kaz.”

“The fact that you’re bleeding through your bandages tells me otherwise,” Kaz said flatly, not quite meeting her eyes in the mirror.

She looked down. It was obvious she hadn’t really noticed the blood slowly soaking through her shoulder bandage. Kaz had. He’d been trying and failing to ignore it ever since he and Wylan had met up with the others after the Sweet Reef plot fell apart. He hated the part of himself that couldn’t focus on anything but healing her. He was about to throw himself into a dangerous situation which could easily result in his death, now was not the time.

“I need Nina to fix this one,” Inej said.

“I can help you,” Kaz said.

They both froze, Inej from surprise by what he’d said and Kaz from shock that he’d actually said it. This was not the way things were supposed to go.

They stared at each other for a minute, then Inej slowly made her way over to the sink and hitched herself up onto it. She watched him as he took a few careful steps towards her.

“Where do we start?” she asked handing him a pair of shears.

Kaz wasn’t wearing his gloves. He wished he was. He wasn’t sure why he was doing this. He wasn’t even really sure what he was planning to do. He nodded to Inej’s forearm and she held it out to him. He cut the towel bandage away from her forearm and stared at the wound for a moment. Slowly, he admitted to himself what he was actually going to do.

He set the shears and the towel aside and stared down at the wound on her forearm. Then he raised his hand. He wasn’t breathing and he was fairly sure Inej wasn’t either. He wasn’t even sure if this was going to work, he hadn’t even tried to heal anyone but himself in years, he wasn’t even sure if he could do it.

Slowly he brought his hand down until it was hovering just above Inej’s forearm. He thought he should probably touch her because he remembered that helping as a kid, but he wasn’t ready to do that. He just took a deep breath, twitched his fingers and moved his hand down the length of her forearm.

The wound healed.

Together they took a shaking, slightly startled breath. He didn’t look up at her. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep going if he did. He hadn’t really believed it would even work, but it had, he wasn’t sure how to interpret that.

He went on to her arm next. Again he moved his hand along just above her arm and the wound healed.

“That’s amazing,” Inej breathed.

“You’ve seen Grisha heal before,” Kaz said. “You know Nina.”

“True,” Inej said. “But I’ve never seen you heal before.” She paused. “You’re calmer when you heal.”

Kaz tensed up. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“When you were attacking people during our escape in Fjerda you got really tense. It was obvious you hated doing it. You’re not like that went you fight with knives or guns or your cane.” Inej said, her voice was a whisper. “I don’t think any of the others noticed, but I did.”

Kaz almost pulled away. She had come far too close to figuring out the truth. “I’m a Heartrender,” he said.

“I never said you weren’t,” Inej sounded a little confused. “I was just pointing out that you don’t seem as on edge now.”

Given that he was inches from touching her and far, far from not on edge, that was saying something. Kaz had never considered the possibility that his difficulties using his powers violently were obvious, but of course, he wasn’t used to people knowing either. He wasn’t sure what to say. He felt like anything he said would just make it more likely Inej would realize he was actually a Healer, but he couldn’t just not say anything either.

“I still need to do your shoulder,” he said. It was a poor response, but at least it changed the subject.

Inej gave him a look that said she was very aware of the change of subject. “Alright,” she finally said and offered him her shoulder.

There was no way to just slip the shears under the bandage and cut it off the way he’d been doing before. He would have to touch her to get it off. Inej watched in silence as he pressed his fingers together and slid them under the bandage. The feel of her bare skin almost made him gag, but he forced himself to carry on. He cut the bandage away and set it aside and set down the shears.

The healing worked when he did it this time too. The feeling was intoxicating. He’d barely let himself do anything other than speed along his own healing in years. He’d never considered that learning how to Heartrend might make it easier to heal too. He’d tried to make himself forget how much he’d liked to make things better as a child.

When the wound was gone, Kaz found himself staring down at Inej’s shoulder. It took him a moment to fully understand that he was thinking about kissing her. It was an odd experience, because even with Imogen he hadn’t really thought about doing anything physical with her beyond acknowledging that romantic relations were physical so he would have to be able to kiss her if he wanted to be with her. He’d never really considered if he wanted to kiss her. He’d never considered if he wanted to kiss Inej.

He leaned forward until his lips were inches away from her shoulder and waited for her to tell him to stop. She would tell him to stop. He was almost sure. After everything both of them had been through, why would she say anything else?

Inej swallowed, hard, like she was bracing herself. “Go on,” she said.


	16. Before 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: implications of something gross and creepy. I don't know what, because I decided not to go there.

The thing about Ketterdam in general and the Barrel in particular was that it was the kind of place that was so packed with people that individuals got lost in the cracks. This was how Kaz knew that even if the Andelas had tried to find him, they never would. Kaz Rietveld had come to Ketterdam and fallen through the cracks never to be found again.

This also meant that the night sixteen-year-old Jesper Fahey came to the Stave with his new college friends and tasted the wonders of the Makker’s Wheel for the first time, the city didn’t notice. The city also didn’t notice him coming back night after night chasing the wonderful success of the first night. The city didn’t notice him falling through the cracks.

All this to say that by the first time Kaz was aware of Jesper Fahey’s existence the other boy was already a college drop-out with an impressive amount of debt to his name who had been to the Crow Club enough times the bouncers recognized him.

Kaz spent a fair amount of his time overseeing things from the main office of the Crow Club. Per Haskell was becoming more and more hands off in his leadership as Kaz kept bringing in money for him. That was a good thing given Kaz planned to oust him. He enjoyed overseeing the Crow Club and reminding himself that increasingly this gang was his and not Haskell’s.

It was early morning, just a few hours before dawn. Kaz was just looking over the profits when Big Bolliger came in. “Brekker, there’s a pigeon downstairs who can’t pay.”

“Then make him, Bolliger,” Kaz said without looking up. “That’s what I pay you for.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Big Bol said. “He’s in here all the time. Has a tab. Keeps saying he’ll win the money to pay it off, but never does. Seeger finally cracked down on him tonight, but he doesn’t have the money.”

Kaz heaved a sigh. He’d known that running a real gambling house would be a lot of work, but the stupidity of his underlings never ceased to amaze him. He pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his coat off the back of his chair. “Fine, I’ll sort this mess out for you.”

Seeger and Pim had the pigeon in a side room that they used for private games. The pigeon was a boy Kaz’s age who was dressed like a student. His shoulders were tense and he kept glancing at Seeger and Pim like he was contemplating running.

“So, I hear that you owe me a lot of money,” Kaz asked.

The boy jumped and looked up at Kaz with huge eyes. “I was told they were going to get the boss,” he said.

“I am the boss,” Kaz said. “My name is Kaz Brekker. I manage this establishment for Per Haskell.” A lie, but a necessary one to keep Haskell from catching wind of his plans too soon.

Somehow the boy’s eyes got bigger. “You’re Kaz Brekker?” he said. “I didn’t realize you were so-” The word  _ young _ hung in the air between them, but thankfully the boy had enough sense not to say it.

“Do you have a name?” Kaz asked. “Or am I just going to have to keep calling you ‘pigeon?’”

“Jesper,” the boy said. It was obvious he didn’t know what a pigeon was and wasn’t about to ask. “Jesper Fahey.”

“And how much do you owe me, Jesper Fahey?” Kaz asked.

“About fifty thousand  _ kruge _ ,” Jesper said sheepishly.

Kaz swore under his breath. He should have asked how much money was involved before he’d gotten here so he wasn’t surprised. He’d assumed they were talking a debt of hundreds or thousands not tens of thousands. He turned to Seeger. “Who let this kid keep a tab?”

“Jager,” Seeger said in a tone of voice which suggested they knew exactly how angry Kaz was.

“Take a finger and fire him,” Kaz said. “I want him out of this establishment in the next twenty minutes.”

“But…” Seeger said. “He wasn’t skimming.”

“Really?” Kaz asked. “Because from where I’m standing it looks like he skimmed fifty thousand  _ kruge _ from us. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be allowing tabs above five hundred  _ kruge _ , he has no excuse.”

“Alright,” Seeger said. “I’ll do it.” And they left the room.

Kaz turned back to Jesper who looked like he was about to wet his pants. “Do you owe any other clubs anything?” Kaz asked.

Jesper sunk down further in his chair. “Forty thousand with the Emerald Palace, five thousand with the Liddies and five with the Razorgulls.”

Pim choked. “You’re in deep, kid,” he breathed.

“A hundred thousand  _ kruge _ ,” Kaz said slowly. “Forty of that with Pekka Rollins who is probably plotting your bloody and extremely public murder right now. Pim’s right, you are in deep.”

Jesper looked like he wanted to vanish. He didn’t even seem insulted that Pim--who was no older than he was--had called him kid.

“Luckily for you,” Kaz went on, “I caught you first and I was just thinking that what I really need is someone who has no connection to the gangs for a job, so I’ll tell you what.” He paused.

“What?” Jesper asked.

“When the sun comes up I’ll go have a chat with Per Haskell and we’ll pay off your debts with money from the Dregs’ safe.”

Relief flooded across Jesper’s face. “Thank-”

“I’m not done,” Kaz said holding up a finger. “You will then have a one hundred thousand  _ kruge _ loan with the Dregs which you will pay back with interest. In addition you will do jobs for me whenever I need you. You will sign a written contract for your loan and the amount of interest you pay will be fair. I will also pay you for whatever work you do for the Dregs. You won’t get a fairer deal anywhere in Ketterdam, not even with the merchers. Do we have a deal?”

“Do I have another choice?” Jesper asked.

“Not really,” Kaz admitted.

“Then I guess we have a deal,” Jesper said.

They shook on it. “Come back here at sunset and I’ll have your contract,” Kaz said. “You’ll also do your first job for me, so make sure you get some sleep: it’ll likely take all night. Any questions?”

“No?” Jesper asked.

“Good,” Kaz said. “You can leave.”

Jesper got up and scurried away. The door had closed behind him before anyone spoke.

“That’s not what I meant when I suggested someone new,” Inej said from somewhere in the shadows behind Kaz. Bolliger and Pim both jumped, but Kaz had known she was there.

He motioned for the bouncers to leave, and waited until they were gone before turning to face his spider. Inej was perched on the back of one of the large chairs, her feet braced on the armrest. “What business?” he asked. He knew she was here for something. Inej hated the Crow Club--he suspected it was because the patrons were the same type of people who had frequented the Menagerie, though he’d never asked--and only came when she had to speak with him about something important.

“I got the floorplans of Martinus Alfons’s house like you asked,” Inej said. “You said you wanted them right away.” she paused then went on, “But really, why bring him onto the job? When I said we needed someone new I meant someone new to the Dregs, like Roeder or someone.”

“Roeder might be newly initiated but he’s still from the Barrel and looks like it,” Kaz said. “If this plan is going to work, we need someone Alfons will never suspect. Jesper’s a pigeon and he looks like it. It’s perfect.”

“We don’t know if we can trust him.”

“He only knows what we tell him and right now I haven’t told him anything at all,” Kaz said. “It’s going to be fine.”

“If you say so,” Inej sighed, not sounding like she trusted him very much at all.

“Come up to the office and draw out the house for me,” Kaz said starting towards the door. “Then head back to the Slat and get some sleep.”

“Are you going to sleep?” Inej asked. The concern in her voice was disarming. When had she started worrying about him?

“Perhaps,” he said without looking back. “There’s a lot to do.”

~~~~

In full transparency, Kaz did not get any sleep, but that wasn’t exactly usual so he just had a couple cups of coffee before Inej and Jesper showed up at the Crow Club and focused on what needed to be done.

“Are you going to tell me what we’re actually doing tonight yet?” Jesper asked as they made their way across the Stave, clothed in the comfortable anonymity of Komedie Brute costumes.

“We’re stealing,” Kaz said.

“I gathered that much,” Jesper said. “I’m more curious about what we’re stealing.”

“You don’t need to know that yet,” Kaz said. “Right now what you need to know is that we’re going to the mansion of Martinus Alfons, the leader of the Black Tips. He likes to play cat and mouse games with newcomers to the city which tend to leave them broke and disgraced if they’re lucky and dead if they’re not. He throws huge parties every couple weeks which are open to anyone, provided you don’t look like you’re from the Barrel. Since Alfons has seen both the Wraith and I before, we can’t enter the house as guests tonight, but you can.”

“Okay…” Jesper said, carefully. “That makes sense, but what do you want me to do?”

“You’re going to enter the party as a guest and then in a couple hours when everyone is drunk beyond coherence, you’re going to come to the back gate and let us in,” Kaz said. “Simple, really. Inej and I will do all the real work.”

“Alright,” Jesper said. “But if the back gate is unlocked, why can’t you just let yourselves in?”

“It is locked,” Inej said. “But the housekeeper keeps the keys in a kitchen cabinet by the back door. Get the keys out of the cabinet, let us in and then put them back.”

“I can do that,” Jesper said, sounding a little relieved to know that his task was so straightforward.

“Good,” Kaz said and stopped. “That’s Alfons’s house up there,” he pointed at a brightly lit mansion up ahead. “We can’t walk with you any further. Be at the back gate with the keys at two bells. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t,” Jesper said and headed down the street, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt as he went.

~~~~

Alfons’s mansion was easily the nicest house in the Barrel. A couple years before he had bought out a couple blocks of apartment buildings and knocked them down. He had then built a sprawling mansion and complex for himself in the style of the mercher mansions. The undertaking had been fabulously expensive and had left many homeless, but neither Alfons nor any of the other Barrel bosses seemed to care. Ever since the other Barrel bosses had been trying to make mercher-style abodes for themselves too, though none had the money to do what Alfons had done. In fact, thanks to Inej, Kaz knew that Alfons didn’t have the money to do what he had done either and the Black Tips were falling deeper into debt with every passing day, which Kaz would have thought of as poetic justice if he still believed justice existed.

Kaz and Inej waited on a wide ledge two stories up the building across the street from Alfons’s garden gate. This vantage point gave them a clear view of the garden and of the brightly lit back windows of the mansion which lead into some kind of hallway alongside the parlor. From what Kaz could see there was a performance going on, though from the brief snatches he could see when the door to the main room opened he couldn’t tell what.

The coffee was just starting to wear off when the clocks across the city began ringing two bells. Kaz and Inej climbed down to street level and darted across the street to the gate. It was a decorative but very sturdy thing that was completely solid except for a couple of decorative openings just above Kaz’s eye level. There was no keyhole on the outside, which was why Kaz couldn’t simply finesse their way inside. The hedges around the perimeter of the building concealed walls strung with razor-sharp wires, which was why Inej couldn’t simply climb over and get the keys herself. This job was entirely at the mercy of Jesper doing what they’d asked him to do.

They waited. And waited. And waited. The moments stretched into minutes. Inej started to fidget and it took all of Kaz’s self-control to keep from doing the same. It was starting to look like the plan was coming apart. This was what Kaz got for trusting a random pigeon he’d met the day before. Inej was never going to let him live this down.

Then footsteps sounded on the gravel in the garden, Kaz and Inej tensed, ready to run. There was no way to tell how badly wrong things had gone.

“Brekker,” It was Jesper, he sounded panicked. He was tall enough that the openings were at his eye level. His eyes were wild. “Where did you say the keys were?”

“In the cabinet by the backdoor,” Inej said. “You can’t miss it.”

“Yeah, well they’re not there,” Jesper said. “I checked the whole kitchen. I can’t find them.”

Kaz swore under his breath.

“Maybe Alfons decided he wanted the keys on him tonight,” Inej said.

“What do we do?” Jesper asked, he jiggled the door, but of course it was locked.

Kaz sighed and tried to plan. “Have you ever picked a lock before, Fahey?” he asked.

“No,” Jesper said, voice rising higher as he became even more panicked. “I grew up on a farm!”

_ That makes two of us. _ Kaz thought. He debated whether or not he could talk Jesper through picking a lock for the first time if he passed the other boy a set of lockpicks through the gaps in the door. The odds of success there were not particularly high. Teaching Inej to pick locks had been an aggravating experience for both of them, and he wasn’t even sure Jesper knew what lockpicks were. They might need to call the job and try again later.

Inej was watching him. It was obvious she knew what he was thinking. “Are we leaving?” she asked in a low voice.

“What?” Jesper asked. “We’re leaving? Now?”

“Unless this whole thing has been a practical joke,” Kaz said. He swore again. He hated it when his plans went awry.

There was a long pause. “I have one thing I could try,” Jesper said slowly. “It might not work, but it’s worth a try.”

They listened to him fumbling with the other side of the door. Then, all of a sudden, there was a click and Jesper pulled the door open like there had never been a lock. Kaz and Inej stared at him for a moment.

“What?” he asked. “Don’t you have stuff to steal?”

He was obviously hoping to distract them with the plot, but that sort of thing didn’t work on Kaz. There had been no sound of a key or anything else in the lock. The lock had simply unlocked like it had been told to.

One glance at Inej told me she was thinking the same thing. Kaz thought about calling Jesper out on it, but they were already behind schedule. They needed to get moving.

“Alright,” he said. “Next order of business. Inej and I are going to do the night’s real work. Your job is to go back to the party and make sure Alfons stays put until we’re out of the way.”

Jesper’s mouth opened and closed. He was obviously trying to decide whether or not to say something. “What?” Kaz asked.

“Alfons left the party a while ago,” he said.

“Why didn’t you tell me that first?” Kaz snapped.

“I was trying to solve the lock problem!” Jesper protested, holding up his hands.

“If he’s not at the party do you know where he is?” Inej asked.

Jesper’s face went still and he pressed his lips together. Kaz didn’t know he very well, but he was pretty sure this was what Jesper looked like when he knew he needed to say something horrible but didn’t want to. “How much do you know about Martinus Alfons?” he ventured after a moment.

“Obviously, not enough,” Kaz said. “What do you know?”

He would wish he hadn’t asked.

~~~~

Kaz’s sink was crawling and his stomach was churning, and it wasn’t all from disgust at Alfons. He wished that he’d killed Alfons with a gun or a knife or his cane, regardless of how much messier it was. If he’d done that he’d be able to simply feel vindicated without this pathetic part of his soul rebelling against the fact that he’d just killed someone with his powers

“So,” Kaz said to distract himself, shifting the bag he was carrying. They’d stuffed their bags with jewels and were safely away from the mansion with a good portion of what remained of Black Tips’s funds, which was a plus. And Alfons was dead, which was even better. “When were you going to mention that you’re a Fabrikator?”

Jesper froze, immobilized like an insect in a trap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not an idiot, Fahey,” Kaz said. “The sooner you learn to stop treating me like one the easier it will be for all of us. You’re a Fabrikator. You can’t deny it. There’s no other way you could have gotten that door open with no key and no lockpicks.”

“So what if I am technically a Fabrikator?” Jesper asked. “I don’t ever use my powers, so it doesn’t matter.”

“That’s impossible,” Kaz said bluntly. “You’re too healthy. Grisha who don’t use their powers are sickly.”

“That’s an old wife’s tale,” Jesper said. He seemed to actually believe it.

“It’s not,” Kaz said flatly. His confusion at the fact that Jesper actually seemed to believe he suffered no ill effects from not using his powers overriding his common sense.

“How are you so sure?” Inej asked.

Kaz supposed he probably couldn’t be annoyed she was so observant when he was the one who had encouraged her to become so.

“I hear things,” Kaz said, which wasn’t necessarily untrue. “People talk.”

Jesper seemed to buy it, though he barely knew Kaz and therefore had no reason not to. Inej looked a bit more hesitant, but he gave her a look and she rolled her eyes and darted ahead to be on the lookout for the  _ stadwatch _ .


	17. After 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence

It wasn’t like Kaz had never snuck into the Slat before. He and Inej had done a lot of entering and leaving the building through the windows of Kaz’s attic rooms over the years, but this was the first time he’d snuck into the Slat when it’s inhabitants were actively hostile to him. He could hear Per Haskell’s rowdy Down With Kaz Brekker party taking place below him as he changed his coat and tried to brace himself for what was to come. This was easily the craziest thing he’d ever attempted. If it succeeded it would repair all the damage this whole Van Eck fiasco had done to his reputation, but if it didn’t at least he’d be dead and wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout.

He checked his appearance in the cracked mirror above his washbasin, making sure he didn’t look like he’d been on the run from the Merchant Council or worse, like he’d fallen through the ceiling onto a fancy dinner twenty-four hours before. He didn’t look as tired as he felt, which probably because he’d been using his powers more often recently.

Satisfied that he looked as presentable as he could be under the circumstances he let himself out of his office and locked the many locks behind him. If he was going to be beaten to death by his own gang tonight, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let them get into his rooms. Kaz wasn’t sure there was anyone else in Ketterdam who could pick his locks and the hinges were all on the inside and reinforced. The idea of Haskell having to hire someone to cut the door out of the wall to get into the room made him laugh.

Below the Dregs were in chaos. Kaz had never seen the Slat like this in all the time he’d been in the gang. Sure they had fights and celebrations, but there was a level of wild insanity to this which Kaz had never seen before. It was obvious that things were fast getting out of control and Per Haskell clearly had no desire to rein the party in.

He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “Old Man,” he called.

One of the many skills Kaz had cultivated since crawling out of the harbor all those years ago was the ability to grandstand. That was what he had to do today. He’d known before he’d even left the Geldrenner that this night would end in blood, but his ability to come out of this with the things he wanted hinged on his ability to seem completely in control of the situation. How he’d looked during the whole thing would be more important to the people this story was told to than anything else.

“I didn’t come looking for friends,” he told the Slat at large, finishing what he supposed he could think of as his opening address. “And I’m not here for the washed-up cadgers and cowards, or the losers who think the Barrel owes them something for manage to stay alive. I came for the killers. The hard ones. The hungry ones. The people like me. This is my gang and I’m done taking orders.”

Haskell snorted. “Like anyone would be crazy enough to follow a Grisha,” he said. “We all like our minds as our own without any tampering.”

Kaz had not allowed himself to make the same mistake he’d made on the Goedmedbridge; this time he’d contemplated how to respond. He shrugged with all the false casualness eight years in the Barrel had taught him. “When have I ever claimed to be Grisha, Old Man?”

“The merch-” Haskell began but Kaz cut him off deliberately.

“So Jan Van Eck starts screaming about me being Grisha and you just believe him with no proof?” Kaz snorted. “Please tell me I’m not the only one who sees a major flaw in that logic.”

Haskell turned bright red; he knew Kaz had a point. The old man had probably never even considered the possibility that Van Eck might be bluffing. Sometimes Kaz wondered how Haskell had ever ended up leading the Dregs when he was so obviously stupid.

And predictable. Kaz knew the instant that he saw Haskell turn red that he’d be ordering the Dregs to attack as soon as he could get a word out and he was right. “Go get your reward, lads!” he shouted, and the Dregs attacked.

Kaz had built the entire strategy on a few logical points which would hopefully keep him from ending up with his brains bashed out. First there was the need to keep the high ground. This was the reason he’d entered the Slat from his rooms; as long as the Dregs had to fight up towards him he had an advantage. Second, there was his cane. He needed to keep hold of it at all times. He had some knives squirreled away in his clothes, but they didn’t have the range necessary for this kind of fight. He needed to keep as much distance between him and his attackers as possible and the cane was the best way to do that. Thirdly, he was hanging everything on the hope that the younger Dregs he’d recruited and whose loyalty he’d spent time cultivating would not attack him. This was probably the biggest variable of the whole plan. Kaz was fairly sure he could handle Beatle and the other goons who would remain loyal to Haskell, but if Anika, Keeg, Pim or any of the other young members who were clever, well-trained and knew his fighting style decided a suspected Grisha didn’t deserve their loyalty he would be in a lot of trouble.

Still, even with those three contingencies there was no doubt that this plan was absolutely insane and not the sort of thing which could really be expected to work. He wasn’t all that surprised when Gorka and Beatle managed to get him onto the ground.

He shifted on the hard stairs, his head spinning. He needed to get back up. He was dead if he stayed on the ground. He lifted his head and caught sight of Inej where she was hiding in the rafters, preparing to swoop down like an angel of wrath. He shook his head. She couldn’t interfere; he was not out of the game yet.

He pushed himself up on his elbows only to be knocked down again. Beatle, Milo and Gorka were laughing and so were what sounded like the rest of the Dregs. Kaz panted for air, his broken ribs driving spears of pain into his chest with every breath. His head was foggy; he thought he might have a concussion. He was going to lose. This crazy plan was the best chance they had and it wasn’t going to work. This was the end.

He was fuzzy enough that it took him a second to realize he’d thought that. What was he thinking? He wasn’t dead yet and until he was there would always be another plan. He was not done. He had not played all his cards. As always, he had one last card in his deck. One last thing to try. In many ways he was right back where he’d been in Fjerda weeks ago, making a choice between revealing what he didn’t what to reveal and losing everything.

The good thing about making a choice where one option was losing everything was that ultimately it wasn’t a hard decision to make.

Kaz threw his right hand out to the side just as Gorka brought his huge foot down. The bruiser intended to crush Kaz’s skull, but instead he broke into terrified squeals of pain and his knee was jerked up and dislocated with a loud popping as if grabbed by an invisible hand.

“I recommend a cane,” Kaz said over the sound of Gorka’s screaming.

Milo stabbed down with a long, shiny knife, evidently deciding that it was time for Kaz Brekker to exit the world regardless of who wanted him delivered alive. Kaz jerked his hand forwards in the same stabbing gesture he’d used in Fjerda and Milo’s face went slack, he teetered over backwards and crashed limply down the stairs and into the waiting crowd.

No one in the Slat was even breathing. Kaz got up using the banister because he didn’t really trust his leg to hold his weight, and stifled a grunt of pain because it would be clearly audible now that the building was this silent. He turned his attention to Beatle who was visibly shaking and might have actually pissed himself in terror. He took one look at Kaz’s expression and fled down the stairs and out the door. Kaz had a feeling he wouldn’t be back. He found that that filled him with more satisfaction than he’d expected it to; Beatle had been a pain in the ass.

With his attackers all taken care of he turned to face the Dregs gathered below. They were all watching with slack, stunned faces. It was obvious that while they’d all been willing to revile him as Grisha, none of them had expected him to actually be one. 

“Well?” he asked, smiling at them. Several flinched. It was wonderful. “Who’s next? Who’s coming? This is what I do all day long. I fight. When was the last time you saw Per Haskell take a punch? Lead a job? Hell, when was the last time you saw him out of his bed before noon?”

“You think we’re going to applaud because you can take a beating? Haskell asked. “You’re Grisha, boy. No one who values their free will would follow a witch like you.”

Kaz snorted derisively. “If I could really control your minds why did I just take a beating in front of you all?” he asked. “Couldn’t I have just made you all abandon Per Haskell by waving my hand? Couldn’t I have taken over years ago and made you all think it was your idea?”

“Yes,” Haskell said. “But-”

Kaz interrupted him, “The ‘Heartrenders can control your mind’ tale is bullshit and you all know it,” he said. “I can’t control your minds and I’m not going to waste my time trying to convince you of that; instead I’m going to tell you what I can do. I can kill someone without touching them. I make it messy and rupture all their internal organs or I can make it clean and it’ll look like a heart attack. I can break bones and bruise and blind and a million other things.” He reached up and ran his fingers down his cheek, healing the rising bruise there with a touch. “I can heal.” It was the most honest thing he’d said about his powers in years and it almost choked him up. “I am more powerful than any of you and if you’re not afraid of that, then you’re a fool.”

Several Dregs were literally shaking but no one had tried to leave. They were all spellbound.

“Per Haskell wanted everything else I’ve brought to his door,” Kaz told them. “This gang would still be running the same penny-poor cons and drinking watered down whiskey if it wasn’t for me. These walls would be falling down around your heads. You’ve taken every bit of money and luck I’ve handed you. You let me do your fighting and your dirty work. You all benefited. You all reaped the rewards. But first chance you get, you’re ready to cozy up to Pekka Rollins for the pleasure of fitting me for a noose. You’re ready to pretend that realizing I’m Grisha could only be a bad thing.” Several people looked away in shame.

“But I’m not angry,” Kaz finished and suddenly every eye was on him again. They watched with bated breath, waiting for Kaz to tell them what to do. He was in pain from more places than he could count, fighting to keep from visibly shaking from adrenaline and a little bit dizzy from the hit to the head, but he still smiled internally. He had them. He could see it now. This crazy plan was going to be a success. He was going to be the leader of the Dregs within the hour.

“I’m not angry,” he repeated and jumped into the next phase of the plan.


	18. Before 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Contemplating violence

By the time he reached the age of seventeen--a feat that most of the people who knew him at age nine probably would have doubted was even possible--not much was able to surprise Kaz. He’d made it his goal to be as unflappable as possible. No matter what twist or betrayal came, he wanted to be able to take it with a raised eyebrow and nothing more.

In his defense, he hadn’t expected to ever see Tidemaker walk through a wall.

“What the hell is this?” he demanded. Most of the people of the Barrel, for whom Grisha were a collection of horror stories, might have believed that was part of a Tidemaker’s natural abilities, but Kaz never would. Something was wrong here.

“Let me go and I’ll explain,” Jan Van Eck was too smug, even with a letter opener held his jugular. This was obviously a man who had never been threatened by someone who would actually kill him. Kaz wanted to prove how mistaken he was, but the sad fact was that he needed to know what was going on with that Tidemaker.

“You can explain right where you are,” Kaz told the mercher.

Van Eck laughed. “What you’re seeing are the effects of  _ jurda parem _ .”

“ _ Jurda _ is just a stimulant. It’s harmless,” Kaz eyed the Tidemaker. Something was wrong, he could feel it deep in his gut. He had to stop himself from reaching out with his powers.

“ _ Jurda parem _ is something completely different,” Van Eck said, he sounded like he was relishing being able to tell the tale, which just made Kaz even more uncomfortable. “And it is most definitely not harmless.”

“So you did drug me,” Kaz said, latching on to the explanation. It was the only way he could think of to make this all make sense.

Van Eck smiled even wider. Kaz wanted to punch his teeth out. “Not  _ you _ , Mister Brekker. Mikka.”

Kaz looked at the sick, shivering, bright-eyed Grisha. Even without Van Eck’s gloating he would have known this was bad. Grisha didn’t get sick unless they stopped using their powers. Mikka was obviously doing the exact opposite of not using his powers. Something much more sinister was going on.

Fortunately, Van Eck seemed like he was ready to tell Kaz about it.

~~~~

After his “business” with Van Eck was concluded, Kaz took the longest and more round-about path back to the Slat he could think of. He needed the time to compose himself. He’d been able to contain his horror to a boiling in his stomach while touring the horrific experiment in Hoede’s boathouse. Once he was safely back in the night, he only made it a few blocks before he had to find an alley where it was shadowy enough for him to sit down for a minute until he stopped shaking. He sat on the damp cobblestones for a long time, forehead resting against his cane. When he finally stopped shaking, he got back to his feet and began taking a circuitous route back to the Slat so he had plenty of time to finish composing himself.

While he walked he began to lay out the facts as they had been presented to him tonight. Number 1, there was a new drug which greatly amplified a Grisha’s abilities. Number 2, that drug was so incredibly addictive that any Grisha who took it was addicted from the first dose and would do anything for another. Number 3, the drug was lethal to people who weren’t Grisha and would eventually kill any Grisha who took it as well. Number 4, the Merchant Council was willing to pay thirty million  _ kruge _ to get their hands on the stuff before anyone else did.

Kaz knew what men like Jan Van Eck wanted with  _ jurda parem _ . Van Eck could pretend at decency all he wanted, but ultimately he was in it for the best profit, just like everyone else in Ketterdam. Grisha were a source of great profit as it was, and that profit would grow exponentially once you had a Fabrikator who could make gold. The  _ parem _ also represented a potential fix to the biggest logistical problem merchers and gangs faced when dealing with their Grisha slaves: Grisha indentures were more powerful than their captors. Most people dealt with this by trying to make it so that the Grisha either were too comfortable in their captivity to try escaping, or by trying to make leaving even more of a risk. The  _ parem _ would circumvent the need for such things; a Grisha addicted to  _ parem _ would do anything for their next dose, their masters would not have to worry about them leaving.

Kaz realized he was shaking again. What would happen if someone drugged an amplifier with  _ parem _ ? Would tricks like coating your arms in paraffin work against an amplifier high on  _ parem _ ? Would an amplifier on  _ parem _ even need to touch someone to tell if they were Grisha? How much chance would Grisha kids like Kaz had once been have in a world where the powers-that-be had drugged, utterly loyal and immensely powerful Grisha on their side and were constantly looking for more Grisha for when they killed the ones they had?

They wouldn’t stand a chance. Hell, Kaz wasn’t sure he’d stand a chance  _ now _ . He’d gotten a good grasp of his own abilities over the years, but he wasn’t sure it was even possible to defend against the psychic persuasion the Healer Anya had used on the  _ stadwatch _ and Hoede.

That left just one option; Van Eck and the rest of the Merchant Council could not be allowed to have the secret of  _ jurda parem _ , Kaz could not allow it.

The question, of course, was how. The simplest course of action would simply to break into the Ice Court, kill Bo Yul-Bayur and destroy any information the Fjerdans might have gotten out of him, but there were too many problems with that plan. Firstly, he could not break into the Ice Court alone. He would need a crew--probably of six to eight given his early thoughts on how it might be done--and Barrel rats didn’t do things out of idealism. Okay, perhaps Nina and Inej would be willing to do such a thing, but everyone else Kaz trusted enough for a job like this would require cash persuasion. He could sell everyone on the idea of the thirty million  _ kruge _ , but things would get really hairy, really fast once Yul-Bayur was dead and there was no money to be had. It would destroy his reputation and he’d have to start over from the ground up. His quest for revenge would be postponed for years.

Secondly, Kaz...really wanted the thirty million  _ kruge _ . He knew his own greed was probably going to shoot him in the foot at some point, but thirty million  _ kruge _ would put everything on the fast track to what he wanted. With that kind of scrub he could move onto the next phase of his plans and finally begin moving against Rollins for real. Thirty million  _ kruge _ made everything possible.

It would actually work better if he saw the plan out for long enough to be paid, he reasoned. If he killed Yul-Bayur in the Ice Court not only would he have to deal with his own angry crew, but Van Eck would probably try to take it out on Kaz too. If Kaz actually did rescue Yul-Bayur, got him back to Ketterdam and got paid, his role in the whole thing would officially be over. Then he could kill Yul-Bayur before he told the Merchant Council anything and do it in a way which didn’t lead back to Kaz--he was well-versed in the art of faking suicides after all. That way Kaz would have the money to continue his plan and the Grisha of the world would be safe from  _ jurda parem _ . It was a win-win situation.

By the time Kaz had come to this decision he was nearing the Slat, which was good because it was beginning to rain in earnest and it was still too early in the year to be wet without freezing. He would go inside, smooth Haskell’s feathers and then start planning.

Thirty million  _ kruge _ was calling his name.


	19. After 9

An hour before the auction scheme Kaz closed himself in the same bathroom where he’d healed Inej and healed himself. He’d done a bit of a quick patch-up job before going to speak to the Ravkans because he didn’t think that meeting some of the most powerful people in the world with a concussion, broken ribs and only one working eye was a good idea, but he’d left most of the bruising, thinking that he needed to make it obvious that he actually had fought half the bruisers of the Dregs. Now he realized that wasn’t actually the case. The story of how he’d used his powers to take over the Dregs was spreading through the city like wildfire and not in a necessarily bad way. His reputation as someone you did not want to fuck with had completely bounced back and seemed to be growing.

Knowing this, Kaz had decided he had nothing to gain by leaving his bruises. If he was still pretending not to be Grisha it would have been necessary to leave them, but now them being gone would have more of an impact. It would remind everyone of the stories. He laughed quietly to himself as he wiped away the bruises and healed his aches and pains. If only Van Eck had realized he was handing Kaz a weapon on Goedmedbridge. If only Kaz himself had realized that.

The others had already left when he exited the bathroom, only Matthias and Kuwei remained. Kuwei was fidgeting with his sleeves and looked like he was going to throw up. Matthias looked like he could be a lot calmer. They both looked up as Kaz entered.

“You healed yourself,” Matthias said. He sounded like he hadn’t really believed Kaz Brekker could do anything other than kill with his powers and that was insulting even though Kaz had done his utmost to give everyone exactly that impression.

“There’s something to be said for giving the right impression,” Kaz said. “Are you two ready to go?”

“Yes,” Matthias said. Kuwei just nodded, eyes wide. The poor kid was shaking.

“Kuwei, there is one thing I’d like you to promise me before you leave for Ravka tonight,” Kaz said. He decided to do Kuwei the favor of not acknowledging the very real possibility that he wouldn’t survive the insanity to come.

“What?” Kuwei asked.

“Don’t ever tell anyone how to make _parem_ ,” Kaz said. “Not even the Ravkans. Not even if they swear they only want to find an antidote. If you can’t live with yourself without trying to create an antidote, fine, but don’t write the formulas used to make the stuff down anywhere, don’t let anyone see you make it. Take how it’s made to your grave no matter if you meet your end tonight or a hundred years from now. The world will be a better place if you do.”

“I can do that,” Kuwei said. “I swear, I’ll do that. You can trust me.”

“Good,” Kaz said. “Then we’d best get on the move; wouldn’t want things to fall apart because we’re not on time.”

~~~~

Though Kaz would never admit it, he was sometimes shocked when his plans actually worked. This was how he felt about the auction scheme. In theory the whole thing would work, but in practice there’d been so many variables that the chances they’d all end up dead were way higher than any thinking person would like. Somehow, however, it had all gone off with only minor hitches. There had been a tense moment when it looked like Kuwei’s death wasn’t going to be an act and Matthias was still unaccounted for, but overall everything had gone right. The auction had been interrupted, Kuwei Yul-Bo was officially dead, Van Eck was discredited, they were going to get their money and Kaz had seen Pekka Rollins on his knees.

There was a spring in Kaz’s step as he left the shadows of the bridge and headed back towards the Church of Barter. He just needed to make sure Van Eck didn’t wriggle out of this and that Jesper and Wylan were okay then they could all return to the Geldrenner or the Van Eck mansion and celebrate their victory. Things were looking up.

“Kaz!” someone yelled, their voice frantic. Kaz froze.

“Kaz!” the person repeated. “Kaz, wait!” Their voice was raspy with exhaustion and shaking with fear. Kaz turned just in time to nearly be bowled over by Kuwei.

“What are you doing here?” Kaz demanded in a low voice, trying to step back so they weren’t so close without making it obvious. “You’re supposed to be dead! What if someone sees you!”

Kuwei swayed and grabbed Kaz’s arm to keep from falling. It took all Kaz’s self control not to jerk away. Kuwei had almost died less than twenty minutes before. He could not be on his feet at all, definitely not running.

“Kuwei,” Kaz said through his teeth. He wanted the other boy to let go. “What is it?”

“You need to come back,” Kuwei panted. “Nina can’t doing anything and he’s going to die if someone doesn’t do something.”

“Who’s going to die?” Kaz asked, his stomach sinking. What could possibly have gone wrong in the five minutes since he’d left the others?

“Matthias,” Kuwei said, his grip on Kaz’s arm tightening. “He came back and he’s hurt and we don’t know what happened and there’s so much blood and Nina’s crying and Inej is panicking and no one else thought that maybe you could do something, but I did so I came to find you and-”

He didn’t need to say anymore. Kaz was already running.


	20. Before 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, Blood

“I stuck your Wraith,” Oomen had told Kaz, a big, demented grin on his face despite all the blood. “I stuck her good.”

Kaz was running. He needed to find Inej and he needed to find her now. No matter what else you said about Oomen it could not be denied that he was a professional. He was not the sort of person who misjudged how serious wounds his attacks made were. If he said he’d stuck Inej good, he had.

There was a blood trail to follow, which was either a good thing or a bad thing depending on how you looked at it. Kaz was leaning towards Very Bad Thing, but at least it made Inej easier to find. She’d hauled herself up a stack of crates, searching for the high ground. It was a smart and very Inej-like move, but it did not make Kaz any less anxious. He hauled himself up, which was not at all easy, but if Inej could make it up them while bleeding he was sure he could make it as well.

She’d only made it up three crates and she was lying so still Kaz worried she was already dead. He grabbed her ankle to reassure himself she was real, then started to roll her over. She fought weakly and went for one of her knives. At first he thought she was going to try to stab him with it, but then she turned the blade on herself.

Panic raced through him, he grabbed her wrist and wrenched the knife away, only realizing afterwards that he’d probably been forceful enough to hurt her. “Not just yet, Inej.”

Her eyes opened. She stared at him through a visible haze of pain and shock. He lifted her up which wasn’t something he would have even contemplated doing under normal circumstances. He reminded himself that his clothes covered him well enough that none of their skin was touching and leaped from the crates. That was a mistake. Pain shot through his bad leg and he bit back a curse.

“Did we win?” Inej asked, groggy.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Kaz asked, hoping he sounded more in control than he actually was. There was so much blood. He was afraid she was going to bleed out before they got to the real  _ Ferolind _ and Nina. He had gotten her into this; he would never forgive himself if she died.

_ I could heal her myself _ .

The thought hit him like a bolt of lightning. He’d been so panicked by the sight of her bleeding out that he’d briefly forgotten. It had been months since he’d last used his powers to heal. It had been weeks since he’d used his powers at all. He’d been about due to use them a little when he’d been picked up by Van Eck and he’d been holding off ever since for the sake of the plan. He kept his abilities very carefully rationed and he couldn’t afford to use up his ration too soon when he might need it in the Ice Court, but this was Inej, he couldn’t let her die.

Still, how could he know he could actually do anything? He remembered what had happened to his parents and to Jordie and even to him. Whenever he tried to heal things just got worse. Kaz was a Healer who could only kill. If he tried to heal Inej he might actually end up sealing her fate. Nina wasn’t a Healer, but she did have more training than he did, and--more importantly--she didn’t have his track record. Nina could save Inej; Kaz would likely kill her.

Even as he came to this conclusion, however, he moved one of his hands over the wound and focused on it. He couldn’t heal her--wouldn’t even let himself attempt to heal her--but he could slow the bleeding. He would do everything in his power to make sure she lived to receive Nina’s care. That much he could do.

“Say you’re sorry,” Inej said, her voice breathy and barely conscious.

“For what?” he asked. The list of grievances people could have against him was extensive and Kaz normally didn’t care about the specifics, but this was Inej so it was different. Everything involving her was different.

“Just say it,” Inej slurred and then she was gone, lost to the waking world in a haze of blood loss.

“Inej?” Kaz asked, his voice rising in audible panic. “Inej!” but she didn’t respond. He was losing her; even this wasn’t enough. The realization was almost enough to drive him to his knees. He could not withstand the death of yet another person he cared about when he was supposed to have the power to stop it.

He pushed through the feeling of defeat which threatened to drive him to his knees and finished the sprint to the  _ Ferolind _ . Jesper and Helvar were there, eyes widening at the sight of Inej’s body. Kaz shoved by them and went on the hunt for Nina. His whole world had narrowed to a single goal: find Nina Zenik. If he found Nina, Inej would live and he would not have failed so completely. If he found Nina it would be okay.

He found Nina and left Inej in her care. Then he went and mutilated and murdered Oomen. It did not make him feel better. He went back to his cabin and carefully washed all the blood--both Inej’s and Oomen’s--away and tried not to think about how horrified his parents would be if they could see him now.

When Nina showed up outside his quarters hours later with a weary smile on her face to tell him Inej was going to live, he took the news with a cool nod and thanks which made Nina roll her eyes and mutter under her breath as she turned away. He closed the door carefully and waited until she was well out of earshot.

Then he collapsed to the floor and cried.


	21. After 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, Blood

Kaz sprinted back to the place where he’d left the others, leaving Kuwei far behind. Nina was kneeling on the cobblestones with Matthias cradled in her lap, she was sobbing and talking frantically, her whole body curled down over him. Inej was standing over her.

“Nina, move over and let me see,” Kaz ordered. Both girls jumped; they mustn’t have heard him come up.

“Where did you come from?” Inej asked.

“Kuwei told me,” Kaz said, stepping around her. “Nina, move.”

Nina uncurled herself and shifted a little to the side. Her face was streaked with tears and snot. Kaz knelt down next to her and leaned forwards to see the damage, his stomach sinking unpleasantly. He’d been hoping that Kuwei had thought Matthias’s injuries were worse than they actually were, but now he saw that particular hope had been misplaced. If anything, they were worse than Kuwei had given the impression they were. Matthias had been shot, and the wound was lethal. It wasn’t as catastrophic as the one that had killed Kaz’s father, but it was definitely worse than the injury Inej had sustained from Oomen.

Kaz’s stomach was a mess of knots as he slowly placed his gloved hands over Matthias’s wound. He slowed the bleeding, which was something he had gotten the hang of over the years and tried to figure out what needed to be done to fix it. He found the little lump of metal still in Matthias’s chest. That would have to come out. A trained Healer could do that themselves, but Kaz didn’t think he could. He couldn’t even begin trying to close the wound until that was done. He tried to think, to plan, but he couldn’t. All he could focus on was the way that Matthias’s life was fading beneath his hands. Slowing the bleeding had bought him some time, but he’d still be dead in minutes. Kaz had to do something, but he was frozen. He couldn’t handle this. Matthias was going to die and it was going to be Kaz’s fault again.

“Inej,” he said so shakily that he almost didn’t recognize his own voice. He held his hand out to her. “Give me the  _ parem _ . Please.” 

“What?” Inej asked. “Kaz, no.”

“He’s going to die and I can’t do anything about it,” Kaz snapped. Vaguely, he was aware of Nina staring at him in shock. “With the  _ parem _ I can fix it. Let me have it.”

“You’ll be signing your own death warrant,” Inej said. “The chances that both you and Nina wouldn’t get addicted on the first dose are slim to none.”

“So you’re going to choose my life over Matthias’s?” Kaz said. “How do you plan to explain that to Nina?”

“I’m right here!” Nina snapped.

Inej gritted her teeth, there were tears in her eyes and on her cheeks. “I don’t have it, Kaz!” she nearly shouted. “I dumped it into a canal within hours of you giving it to me! I couldn’t give it to you no matter what!”

Somehow everything became very still and calm. The  _ parem _ was gone. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t even surprised; Inej had as good as told him that was what she’d do when he’d given it to her. As much as Kaz hated  _ parem _ , Inej had still had a better understanding of the dangers of the stuff than Kaz did. If Kaz had held onto the  _ parem _ he would have never gotten rid of it, he would have always kept it in a back pocket, as a final card to play if things went wrong. Inej had known him well enough to know that, that was why she’d taken it from him. She’d known that if he hung onto the stuff he’d have taken it eventually, and she’d wanted to make sure he didn’t have that option. It was a logical approach, and Kaz couldn’t blame her for it, but still…

“Then Matthias is going to die,” he said. The words sounded numb. The knowledge of his failure hadn’t sunk in yet; he was not looking forward to when it did.

“No, Kaz,” Inej crossed the space between them and knelt down next to him. “You can still do this, Kaz. You’re a Corporalnik just like Nina is and she saved me.”

“You don’t understand,” Kaz whispered. He hated how weak he sounded.

“You can heal, Kaz,” Inej said. “I’ve seen you do it. In the bathroom remember? You can heal this too. I know it seems overwhelming, but you can do it. I believe in you.”

“No, you don’t understand!” Kaz screamed it this time, so loudly that Inej and Nina jumped. “It’s different with Nina. She’s a Heartrender but people taught her how to heal so she could do it if she needed to. I’m--” he couldn’t find the words to explain it. It was one of those things that sounded insane when spoken aloud. “I’m the opposite. I taught myself to be a Heartrender because I couldn’t do anything else. Whenever I try to fix people they always end up dead so I found a different way to use my powers which actually worked.”

“What are you talking about, Kaz?” Nina asked. “You’re not making any sense.”

But he could tell that Inej did know exactly what he was talking about. Her face had gone slack and she was staring at him like everything she knew about him was shifting. He imagined it was the same look that had been on her face weeks ago when he’d revealed himself in Fjerda. 

“Oh, Saints,” she swore, which was how he knew she was more surprised to learn he was a Healer than she had been to learn he was Grisha. “Kaz-”

“He’s already dying,” Kuwei said from behind them. They all jumped because none of them had noticed him come up. He was leaning heavily against a wall and looking like he was trying not to sink down to the ground and pass out. He really should not have gone chasing after Kaz. “If you try to heal him and he still dies it’s not actually your fault? Since he’s already dying, you can’t make it any worse.”

“That’s much better than what I was going to say,” Inej said. “Kaz, I believe you can do this, but if it helps you to think of this as being something you can make no worse, think of it that way. You healed me in that bathroom and it didn’t cost you anything. I could tell. You can do this too.”

“Please, Kaz,” Nina begged.

“It’s not going to work,” Kaz whispered.

“You should still try anyway,” Kuwei said. “As I said, you have nothing to lose.”

Kaz stared down at Matthias’s motionless body. This would not end well. What could possibly come from trying this again aside from more pain and failure, but at the same time Kuwei was right. Matthias’s fate was already sealed. What more damage could Kaz do? Maybe he could find a way to make things less painful before the end.

“Kaz,” Inej said. “I believe you can do this. We all do.”

Kaz took a shaky breath. “Alright,” he said. “Alright. We’re going to need your thinnest knife, Inej; I don’t know how to get the bullet out myself, so I’ll walk you through it.”

“Alright,” Inej said, pulling a knife out of her clothes, she stepped over Matthias’s body to kneel on his other side.

“Nina, keep him still,” Kaz said. “I don’t think he’s conscious enough to move, but make sure anyway; we don’t want him to move and cause even more damage.”

“Okay,” she said in a very small voice.

“What can I do?” Kuwei asked.

“Keep watch,” Kaz said. “The last thing we want is to run afoul of whoever shot him, especially since you’re officially dead.”

“I can do that,” Kuwei said and padded off to find a vantage point.

Kaz turned back to Matthias and took a deep breath. Inej and Nina were watching him, waiting for him to do something. He turned his gaze inward again. His hands were shaking as he replaced them on Matthias’s chest.

“You can do this, Kaz,” Inej said.

He didn’t know how to respond to that. “The bullet is right here,” he said. “What you’re going to have to do is-”

His hands steadied as he talked Inej through extracting the bullet. When they were finished with that Matthias was miraculously still alive. Kaz was sure that if Inej had tried to do it herself things would have ended far worse, but he’d been able to talk her through how to do it with the least amount of damage possible and been able to control the bleeding. Now that the bullet was out, the real work began. The wound was still potentially fatal, and Matthias would bleed out in minutes if Kaz stopped focusing on slowing the bleeding. If he was going to survive, Kaz needed to do some real healing.

He took a slow breath, trying to mentally prepare himself for what needed to happen. “You can do this, Kaz,” Inej breathed. She was still kneeling on the other side of Matthias’s body clutching her knife and the extracted bullet. “Just take it a little at a time.”

Kaz closed his eyes and sunk down into a place where only he and the injury existed. This was the place where he had occupied most of the last days of Jordie’s life. It was so familiar that for a second he almost panicked and had to forcibly remind himself that had been years ago. He stretched his hands, feeling the leather of his gloves pulling at his fingers. It was alright, he just needed to stay present. 

When he felt like he had a firm grasp on where he was and who he was trying to heal, he took a deep breath to steady himself as much as he could and began. 

It was different than healing Jordie had been. In many ways, it was simpler.. Not that it was easy, but the wound in Matthias’s chest was large but fixed, it didn’t try to fight him the way that Jordie’s illness had. Firepox was alive and had to be fought and defeated to heal, a gunshot wound was more like chipping away at a glacier. 

Kaz slowly repaired miniscule bits of the damage. It was going too slowly, at this rate Matthias would be dead long before Kaz finished. His breathing began to speed up again. He was going to fail Matthias like he’s failed his mother, his father and Jordie.

“Kaz,” Inej said. “Relax. You can do this. He’s already doing better. Just keep going.”

He didn’t really believe her, but at this point what other choice did he have but to keep going? If he quit now he would never be able to look Inej, Nina and Kuwei in the face again. They all thought that he could do this, and even if he ended up failing at least he wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that he’d given up.

It wasn’t self-confidence, but it carried him through. Time passed unnoticed. He wasn’t even really aware of the others anymore. It was just him chipping away at the glacier of Matthias’s wound. It felt like this was all he had ever done, it felt like this was all he would ever do.

Eventually, without him really noticing, the work began to get easier. Not in the sense that he was getting better at what he was doing, but in the sense that the damage was getting easier to deal with. The glacier was getting smaller. He no longer had to keep the blood in Matthias’s body, because Matthias’s body was doing that itself. The damage wasn’t completely fixed, but everything life-threatening about it was gone; Matthias would have some recovery time, but he would live.

Slowly, barely daring to hope, Kaz pulled away. The real world floated back, it felt insubstantial, like something out of a dream, like he wasn’t quite real and neither was anything else. He was vaguely aware of Inej, Nina and Kuwei crowding around him, asking questions, but it was hard to feel real enough to speak. Matthias was lying on the ground, still unconscious, but now there was color in his cheeks and his chest was rising and falling steadily. There was still blood splattered all over his clothes, but he now looked too healthy for it to belong to him.

“He’s going to be okay,” Kaz said, his voice sounding far away. He sort of wanted to sink down onto the cobblestones and sleep for the next year, but that would not do; he had a reputation to maintain. He tried to stand up, only to realize his bad leg had gone numb. It buckled under his weight and he fell quite spectacularly. Inej tried to catch him, but he jerked away.

“Sorry,” she said, holding up her hands. “But are you okay?”

“Fine, just tired,” Kaz said. The world was beginning to shift back into focus, but he still felt very far away. “We need to get out of here and find Jesper and Wylan. I was going to make sure Van Eck didn’t find a way to wriggle out of the trap and now we have no way of knowing what happened. Besides, Matthias needs someplace warm and dry to rest.”

“So do you,” Inej said quietly. He ignored her. There were more important things to think about.


	22. After 11

Kaz woke up.

He was lying on what had to be the most absurdly comfortable mattress he’d ever experienced, cocooned in blankets which pressed down on him with a soothing weight. He was warm and comfortable and…

And he had no idea where he was.

He sat bolt upright, years of the myriad hazards of the Barrel chasing away any feelings of sleepiness or safety in an instant. He didn’t know where he was, which meant he was in danger. The longer he didn’t know where he was, the more danger he would be in.

He was sitting on a large bed in the middle of a large, thoroughly decorated room. The bed was large enough for multiple people, and positioned with the headboard against the wall and both sides open. Kaz--who always slept with his back to a wall--had been lying sideways across the head of the bed, but the blankets and pillows had been rearranged to accommodate this. The gesture of thoughtfulness felt creepy in this situation.

The rest of the room was as lavish as the Ketterdam suite at the Geldrenner had been, but with different tastes, which ruled out the possibility that they’d gone back there and he’d just passed out in one of the bedrooms. He tried to remember what had happened. He remembered healing Matthias, he remembered talking about finding Jesper and Wylan afterwards, but the memory was hazy. What had happened after that? He was having a hard time picking through the soup in his head to find out.

His cane was leaning against the bedside table which was comforting in more ways than one. If whoever owned this place didn’t realize what a dangerous weapon his cane was, perhaps they would be easy to escape from. He launched himself out of bed towards the cane, or at least tried to because his leg was a ball of white-hot pain and the rest of his body felt like lead. He almost collapsed back onto the bed again. A disturbingly large part of him argued that it would be fine to just go back to sleep for a few hours and deal with this when he woke up. He pushed that part away as firmly as he could.

There were four visible ways out of the room. Two closed doors and two curtained windows. The door across from the bed was probably the one which lead into the hallway, which meant the other lead into a bathroom. The latter was useless as an escape path and the former was obvious, so Kaz made his way to the closer of the two windows. Under normal circumstances he would never consider climbing or dropping out of a window with his leg the way it currently was, but desperate times called for desperate measures; he would do anything necessary to escape.

When he reached the window he pressed his back against the wall, twitched the edge of the curtain aside with the head of his cane and peered out. He stared out a that the familiar grounds with the rest of the Ketterdam stretching out into the smoggy distance for far too long before he finally registered what he was seeing. This was one of the guest bedrooms of the Van Eck mansion.

As the initial panic of waking up in a strange place began to fade, other things began to float back. He, Inej, Nina, and Kuwei had hauled Matthias onto the barge and headed down the canal. Inej and Nina had worked the poles alone because Kuwei had to stay hidden and Kaz was too weak to help them. He remembered leaning against a crate, and struggling to keep his eyes open as the city drifted by. Eventually they’d figured out that Van Eck had been arrested and that Jesper and Wylan had gone back to the mansion with Alys. Kaz was a bit hazy on how they’d come by this information because he truly had been almost asleep by that point, but the logical answer was that Inej had done what she did best and gone to gather information. What he did know was that they’d made their way to the mansion as well, and after that everything was a big blank until this moment.

The door he’d speculated led to the hallway opened and someone entered so soundlessly it might have seemed like the door had just been blown open by a stray wind. He knew exactly who it was anyway.

“You’re awake,” Inej said. “How are you feeling?”

Inej’s presence was the thing that finished convincing him that nothing had happened and that he was safe. Exhaustion crashed over him like a wave. He kept himself upright by a firm grip on his cane and on the windowsill. “I woke up and didn’t know where I was,” he said without thinking and cursed himself for saying it at all.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Inej said. “You were pretty out of it when we got here. I don’t think I’ve ever known you to go to bed just because I suggested it.”

Kaz realized that Inej must have been the one to rearrange the pillows and blankets to suit his sleeping preferences and instantly felt guilty for thinking it was creepy.

“Do you want to sit down?” she asked.

He did. He staggered to one of the ridiculously plush armchairs by the fireplace and collapsed into it. It took him a moment to realize there was a fire in the hearth, which was a bit odd given it wasn’t exactly cold this time of year, but it was comforting just the same.

Inej came to sit in the other armchair. “I asked Nina and she said it’s normal to be tired after something of the magnitude you just did.”

“What magnitude?” Kaz asked because he had to say something.

“Kaz, you were working on Matthias for hours,” Inej said. “That’s draining, even if a Grisha’s abilities ultimately make them healthier in the long run. Nina said that you should take it easy for a few days, get plenty of sleep and stay warm and that everything will be okay.”

Kaz snorted. He had no intention of following that advice and Inej probably knew it, still she didn’t comment, which was unusual.

They sat in silence for a while. Kaz was just reaching the point of admitting to himself that if this went on for much longer he was going to embarrass himself by falling asleep, when Inej said, “I don’t quite know what to say without knowing what happened, but I want you to know that whatever happened when you were younger to make you think you couldn’t heal isn’t an accurate depiction of what you can actually do.”

Kaz sighed. “Wraith, this is not the time for-”

“No, listen to me, this is important,” Inej interrupted. “You saved Matthias today, _you,_ not anyone else. Perhaps playing the part of the Heartrender is good for your image and status in Ketterdam but we both know that’s not what the problem was. This proves you can save people, that you can be a Healer, doesn’t it?”

“So one success rules out multiple failures?” Kaz asked. 

“How old were you the last time you tried to heal someone from a major injury?” Inej asked. 

“Nine,” Kaz admitted. “Fourteen if my leg counts.”

To most people it might not have looked like Inej had any kind of reaction to that information, but Kaz knew her well enough to know that made her at least a little sad. 

“You were a child,” she said. “You understand your own powers so much better now. It makes sense that you wouldn’t be able to save people from death at the age of nine.”

“Wraith-” Kaz said. 

“Don’t do that,” Inej said. “You know I’m right.”

Objectively, yes he did, but that didn’t make admitting it to her any easier. He leaned his head against the back of the chair and studied the fire so he didn’t have to look her in the eyes. “How’s Matthias?”

Inej gave him a look that said she knew exactly what he was doing and that this conversation wasn’t over, but she said, “He’s doing fine. He actually just woke up. That’s where I just was.”

Kaz shifted in his chair and leaned forward, preparing to get up. “I want to see him.”

“Kaz,” Inej said. “You can see him later; he’s not going anywhere.”

Kaz hauled himself to his feet and looked steadily at her. “I am going to see him.”

She didn’t try to argue anymore.

~~~~

The guest room that they’d put Matthias in had a different color scheme than the one Kaz had woken up in, but ultimately it was about the same. It was obvious that Van Eck had decorated the house with the express purpose of demonstrating his power and wealth and while he definitely had accomplished his goal that didn’t mean it wasn’t a little overwhelming.

Unlike Kaz, Matthias was still in bed though he was alert and honestly looked a little perkier than Kaz felt. Nina was sitting in a chair by the bedside, chatting animatedly. Kaz didn’t know where Jesper, Wylan and Kuwei were, probably resting or something. For the first time, Kaz wondered if Wylan knew anything about the legal implications of inheriting your family’s properties because your father got arrested for cheating the government. That was an issue to address as soon as he figured out where the merchling was.

Nina and Matthias both looked up in surprise when he came in. At first he thought it was just because they were surprised to see him, but then he realized that he was only wearing his pants and shirt. He looked down at his stockinged feet and felt strangely vulnerable, a feeling which was not helped by the fact that he really needed to sit down soon. He should have waited until he was stronger to do this, but then he would have had to continue that conversation with Inej which was just as unbearable.

“Hi, Kaz,” Nina finally said. “Good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Kaz grumbled, leaning heavily on his cane.

Nina gave him a worried look and then stood up. “I’ll let you two have a moment to talk.” She started heading towards the door and Kaz decided not to call her out on her absolutely transparent attempt to give him her chair. Still, he wasn’t going to keep standing just out of spite, though he did wait to sit down until the door closed behind her and Inej.

For the first few minutes neither he nor Matthias said anything. Kaz studied the other boy, looking for indications of how he was. It looked like everything was okay. He was almost afraid to allow himself to get optimistic about the fact that it looked like Matthias was going to survive.

“I owe you my life,” Matthias said after a few minutes. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Kaz said. He couldn’t just accept an apology with his reputation.

“We both know that’s not true,” Matthias said. The look he gave Kaz was piercing. Kaz wondered how much Nina had told him. He’d hoped she hadn’t told him anything at all, but that obviously had been too much to hope for.

“I’m still not above breaking your kneecaps,” he said, because he needed to head this off and that was the first thing which came to mind.

The smile Matthias gave him was fond. “I don’t plan to give you reason to.”

Kaz glared at him, but they both faded back into silence.

“Nina says you’re actually a Healer,” Matthias said after a long time.

Kaz didn’t want to answer that question, but it wasn’t like Matthias didn’t already know the answer. He wasn’t quite ready to admit Inej was right about everything, but he did know that there was really no point in hiding what he actually was anymore, at least not from his crew. “I am,” He admitted. It was much harder to say than he’d expected it to be, but it felt good to say. It had been so long. He waited for Matthias’s response.

“Well…” Matthias ventured. “I have to admit, that’s somewhat unexpected. I mean, figuring out you were Grisha at all was shocking, but at least you being a Heartrender made some sense from a character standpoint. I mean-”

“Stop sticking your foot into your mouth, Helvar,” Kaz interrupted.

Matthias shut up.

~~~~

Kaz stepped out of Matthias’s room and into the sunlit hallway. He’d almost expected Inej and Nina to be waiting tensely outside in case either he or Matthias had a go at expiring while they were out of sight, but the hall was empty. The scents of cooking food were wafting up from downstairs and Kaz could hear laughing and chattering. It appeared the others had all found each other. He thought about going to find them, but found that he wasn’t quite ready for the socializing yet. He turned and headed in the opposite direction. 

Kaz had broken into the Van Eck mansion multiple times, so he knew all sorts of ways to get in and out without using the doors. He let himself out through the window of Wylan’s old room which was now intended as Alys’s baby, and hauled himself up the drainpipe onto the roof. His arms were shaking with exertion by the time he made it and he collapsed onto the roof tiles panting for breath. It was good there was no one there to witness it. 

Eventually, he straightened up and stared out at the city, especially the Barrel, in the distance. He’d done it. He had seen Pekka Rollins on his knees, he had salvaged the damage Van Eck’s and Haskell’s attempts at destroying his character. He was going to rule the Barrel and apparently was going to do it as a known Grisha, which was unexpected to say the least. 

“Do you think we should tell Wylan all the ways you can easily break into this place?” Inej asked from behind him. Kaz wasn’t sure how she’d known where he was, but he wasn’t surprised she’d found him.

He didn’t look in her direction, but he was aware of her padding along the roof to sit next to him. “He was with me when I broke in to pilfer Van Eck’s safe,” Kaz said. “He knows how easy it was. If he’s smart he’ll ask.”

“Or you could just tell him,” Inej said. 

Kaz shrugged.

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “There’s food,” she said. “Nina, Jesper and Wylan are carting it into Matthias’s room while we speak. Come and eat with us.” She paused and looked out across the city. “Unless you want to watch the sun set.”

“Do you?” Kaz asked. 

“Sure,” she said and leaned back on her hands as she returned her attention to the city. Kaz watched her for a moment then looked out as well. 

They sat on the roof until darkness had fallen. Then they climbed back down and went inside to join the others. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
